Different Demeanor, Same Heartbeat
by SewingUpMyWounds
Summary: It's not easy struggling with personal problems, the GCPD breathing down your neck, and falling for the last person you should be. [This is a re-write of the original. Though there are some small changes throughout the first ten chapters, the new content will begin after Chapter 10.]
1. Chapter 1: About Last Night

Chapter One: About Last Night

* * *

It was pouring down rain for the first time in over a month. Perfect timing. Every drop felt like ice, but she kept running, violently inhaling a mix of cold air and rain water. It was hard to tell if she was still hearing his voice screaming her name or if her mind was simply replaying the sound. Regardless, she decided not to stop until her body could no longer take it. She kept going through tears and rain, not checking for cars when she dashed across streets or caring if she slammed past someone.

After what felt like hours but could've only realistically been 10 minutes or so, she collapsed behind a dumpster and started alternating between gasping for air and crying hysterically. _This is the last time,_ she swore to herself for the millionth time. As the adrenaline subsided, the pain and fatigue resurfaced. She closed her eyes and told herself that she'd rest for just a minute before finding a payphone to call and ask to crash with someone for the night.

* * *

She woke up to blinding lights and a sharp ringing in her ears. _How long was I out? Where am I?_ She started to get up then felt a hand on her back, "Hey, slow down, I haven't finished patching you up." She felt her eyes adjust to the light and a pair of warm brown eyes met hers.

"I'm Dr. Leslie Thompkins, but you can just call me Lee if you want." The woman in front of her stuck out a hand.

She grabbed it and shook it politely, still confused, "Am I at the hospital..?" Her surroundings didn't look like anything more than a makeshift doctor's office, but she had yet to land herself in the hospital since moving to Gotham, so for all she knew, this is how their hospital rooms looked.

Lee smiled, "No, you're at the police station. I'm the resident doctor here. One of our officers found you behind his apartment complex this morning when he took out the trash. He's new, so he didn't feel comfortable taking you to the hospital without letting me see you first. You're pretty lucky he found you. I was worried you had a concussion with that head wound. And your name is?"

"Scar," she said as she put her hand up to her forehead and ran her fingers over a set of stitches.

After reaching for a pen, Lee began to scribble on a notepad, "Is that your legal name?"

"No, it's Scarlet, but my boss at work calls me Scar and I ended up liking that better," she replied, stretching out her limbs.

Lee smiled, "Scarlet is prettier…but I hear the same thing about Leslie. Do you remember anything about last night? You were in terrible condition when Eric brought you in."

Scar shuddered as it all rushed back to her, but decided lying was the best thing to do. It wouldn't be the first time. "Um, I must've gotten attacked on the way home from work last night. I work at a bar and some guys there are creepy, so I must have been followed. It's fine, though, I don't want to press charges or anything, so…" she trailed off when she realized Lee looked skeptical.

"Really…" Lee began, "…oookay. It's just that most people don't go to and from work without a coat, phone, or wallet. You've been our Jane Doe up until a minute ago."

"I mean, I just didn't even think about it yesterday when I was heading out. I—"

"You don't have to lie," Lee interrupted, "I won't pry…" she leaned in and lowered her voice, "…but some of the officers out there will, so if something's going on or if you're scared—"

Scar stopped her and spat out, "I'm not scared. I'm fine. Honest." Lee gave her a disappointed but sympathetic look.

The door cracked open and a young man peeked his head through the door. "You can come in, Eric, she's doing fine," Lee said. She turned to Scar, "This is Officer Eric Graves. He's who brought you in."

He smiled and gave a sheepish wave, "Hi."

"Eric, this is Scar. She doesn't remember what happened, but she's doing alright," Lee said, making eye contact with Scar as if to say 'your secret is safe with me.'

Scar smiled back, "Thank you. Seriously, you're one of the few good people left."

He blushed and choked out, "Welcome," then turned to Lee and said, "I'll be at my desk if you need anything."

After he closed the door, Lee rolled her eyes, "He must think you're cute."

Scar let out a small laugh, "Yeah, **so** cute with my eyeliner washed off and hair tied up."

"Hey, it's a look," Lee said grinning, "Maybe you can give him your number as a thank-you."

Scar's smile faded into a more concerned expression. Lee put a hand up to her mouth, "Oh…I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything, I just—"

"No, no, you're totally fine," Scar said, looking down, "it's just I have a boyfriend, and you know how boyfriends are."

Lee furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"

"Just…I mean…he's a normal boyfriend. He flips the hell out when I talk about my male coworkers, doesn't trust me to go out, sometimes he…" seeing that Lee looked more concerned than understanding, she took that as a cue to shut up, "…ya know what, nevermind."

Alarmed, Lee started to connect the dots, "Scarlet…Did he—"

The door slammed open and a man waltzed right in, "Good! Miss Doe's up. Now we can talk."

Visibly upset, Lee dragged the man out into the hall and slammed the door behind them. Curious, Scar slowly got up and started to creep towards the door. She winced at how sore her muscles were, but overall felt surprisingly better than expected. "I told you I have it covered!" Lee shouted, "I was finally getting her to open up!"

"Well we ain't got all day, so your little chit chat needs to wrap up," the man griped back.

"Chit chat?" Lee repeated, "Have you **seen** her? You have no **idea** what she's been through, Harvey!"

Though the door's window was distorted, she could see Harvey throw his hands up in defeat, "Look, I'm soooorry. Captain's been on my ass a lot lately and I can't have her here for much longer."

Scar put her ear to the door as she heard Lee lower her voice and say, "I'll have her out soon, okay? Let's see if she has anyone who can come get her." She saw the two figures head back towards the door and tried to hurry back over to the examination table. The door swung open and she realized she wasn't fast enough to go unnoticed.

Lee's face went from annoyed to embarrassed, "You heard all of that, didn't you?"

Nodding her head, Scar said, "It's fine, seriously. I understand being on a time crunch, I'm sure you all are busy."

Harvey stepped forward and reached out his hand, "I'm Detective Harvey Bullock, Lee's punching bag for the day."

Lee let out an over-exaggerated sigh and Scar took Harvey's hand in hers, "I'm Scarlet, but I go by Scar. You look familiar, honestly."

Harvey puffed out his chest, "Well, I **am** one of the most hard-working cops on the force, so you've probably seen me around."

"Or she's seen you at one of the bars you practically live at," Lee called over her shoulder from putting away her tools.

"Don't mind her," Harvey whispered loudly, "she's just a little grumpy."

Scar felt oddly comforted by his off-humor and for a second almost forgot the predicament she was in. Reality came back when Lee asked, "So is there somewhere I can take you? Or do you have anyone who could come pick you up?"

"Yeah," Harvey interjected, pretending to be helpful, "a friend? Boyfriend?"

"No!" Scar said louder than she intended to, "I mean…I have someone, I guess. You can call my boss and I'm sure one of my co-workers wouldn't mind coming to get me or something."

Harvey side-eyed Lee uncomfortably, "Oookay then, just give me the number and I'll go get Jim to call the place up." Lee turned around and handed Scar a pen and notepad. She scribbled the number down, tore off the page, then handed it to Harvey. "I'll be right back," he said, walking out with the paper.

"He's a mess," Lee said, "We love him here, but sometimes I could just strangle him."

Scar laughed, "Yeah, we all have co-workers like that. He seems nice all-in-all…maybe not too concerned with my condition, but nice nonetheless. Speaking of, how long will it take for me to heal up?"

Lee smiled, "Your stitches were minor, so I'll just give you my number to come in and have them taken out in a couple of weeks. Other than that, your bruising should go away in a few days. Make sure to keep ice on your face and wrists. If you have any questions, start to develop an infection, or need anything, I'm always here. Just give me a call." Scar nodded gratefully, and Lee added, "Seriously. Anything. Even if you just need someone to listen." The two exchanged a look that made it clear they both knew what Lee was referring to.

Scar quickly changed the subject, "So, how long have you worked here?" Lee kind of laughed, "Well, I just recently got re-hired. I used to work here for a while, then moved away. Now I'm back. Honestly? It's a long story." Scar shrugged, "We've got time."

* * *

Harvey pushed his way back into the room and interrupted Lee's story by announcing, "Graves said your ride should be just around the corner. How convenient. I'd offer to drive you myself, but my ex-partner just **had** to use my car this morning. He should be back in a sec if you want to meet him. Lee better hide, though, or it might get awkward."

Lee punched his arm, " _Some of us_ are adults. We're fine being in the same building."

"It's fine," Scar replied, "I appreciate the offer anyway. If your partner is half as… _charismatic_ as you, I'm sure he'll be fun."

"Those two definitely feed off each other," Lee said, "I'll go see if I can find Jim." She excused herself and left.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Harvey leaned against a counter and folded his arms, "So do you want to talk about why you're here? I hope you don't think Lee or I buy that you suddenly can't remember an hour's worth of time but still remember your name and something as specific as you boss's phone number."

Scar shook her head, "Not…really…"

"Well at least you aren't going to try to convince me that that story was true," Harvey chuckled.

The door opened and a well-groomed man came in, following Lee. Harvey patted the man on the back and said, "Well, now that you're back, I'm gonna go get a little drinkypoo."

The man smiled at Harvey, then stuck out his hand, "Jim Gordon. Glad to hear you're okay. I was told we had someone in but didn't know the condition…Lee's a good doctor."

"I know," Scar said, taking his hand, "She's been great, seriously. I don't kn—"

"Jim, you're not gonna wanna come out here!" Harvey said, immediately rushing back in.

"Why?" Jim asked, gruffly.

Harvey turned to Scar, "Man, I don't know if you know much about your employer, but lemme tell you, you have no idea what you've gotten into."

The sound of a throat over-dramatically being cleared came from the down the hall.

"Hello, Jim."

* * *

Author's Note / Introduction: This is a story I posted last year and deleted. I wanted to re-write it to make it more accurate and overall better-written. I didn't like a few of the chapters I had written before, so I'm changing some things. Just a few things to help make reading my story a little easier: When I put in a line-break, that's meant to be where a "commercial break" sort of moment would be for the show. It's either to pass time or be seen almost like a dramatic moment. When something is italicized but not in quotations, it's a thought that Scar is having. When something is italicized but is in quotations, the word is meant to be read as drawn out and/or sarcastic. If a word is bold, it's meant to be emphasized when read. I try to write in a way where you can really visualize and hear these characters saying and doing these things. I try to keep everyone as in-character as possible. I'd prefer the comments to stay vague, spoiler-free, and positive...so please send criticism, questions, or suggestions to me in a private message. I hope you all enjoy my story! Make sure to check out another Gotham story of mine, No Hypnosis Needed. It's another one I wrote, deleted, and am now reworking, but it's about Jervis Tetch. Much love to you all!


	2. Chapter 2: The Employer

Chapter Two: The Employer

* * *

"Oh god," Lee muttered, crouching behind a filing cabinet.

Jim clenched his jaw then turned to Scar, "You think you could've mentioned that _Barbara Kean_ is your boss?" She felt a rush of blood run to her head, "I mean…I-I didn't know that was something that needed to be mentioned..?"

Barbara walked through the door and shrieked, "What have you done to her?" Harvey rolled his eyes, "I see you still haven't changed. _Always_ the drama queen." Icy eyes drilled holes into his, "Nice to see you, too, _Harv_. Now can you tell me why my bartender looks like she got caught in the middle of one of you two's _brilliant_ plans?"

"She was found this way," Jim interjected then pointed towards the door, "Now go wait outside."

"What, no kiss goodbye?" Barbara purred out. Silence. "Aww, you guys are no fun…Have my girl out soon, 'kay? Oh! And if you see Lee…make sure to tell her I said _welcome back_ ," she made sure her long, fur coat hit Jim as she spun on her heels and walked out.

After leaning down the hall to make sure she was gone, Harvey let out a big sigh of relief, "Well, thankfully that's all she had to say for once! Man, if I would've known _she_ was coming, I—"

"Harvey, stop," Lee stood up from the cabinet.

"Okay, is anyone going to explain to me why you all hate each other?" Scar asked, confused. Harvey spoke up immediately, "Well, _I've_ got a LOT to say abo—"

"I said stop," Lee said, sternly. Harvey scoffed and stormed out, muttering to himself. "I'll go check on him," Jim uncomfortably said, still visibly agitated. The door slammed shut behind him and the sound of heavy footsteps started to fade.

The air felt thick and the uncomfortable, mutual feeling lingering in the air was almost suffocating. After a moment of silence, Scar spoke up, "I guess I'll go now. I'm sorry." Lee tried to regain her composure, "You did nothing wrong." Scar scoffed, " _Clearly_ I did, since your friends are treating me like I'm a monster when I'm just a woman who works at a night club."

After taking a deep breath, Lee replied, "Look, I don't want you to hear details if you aren't truly involved with her, but please listen to me when I say to _stay_ uninvolved with Barbara Kean. Just trust me on this. A new job would be better." Not in the mood to argue or push, Scar just nodded and let out a small, "Got it."

Lee went on to explain aftercare procedures for the stitches, minor cuts, and bruises. She gave Scar her personal phone number and reminded her that she isn't the only one who's been in a tough situation. Scar thanked her and headed outside. The walk out through the police station was uncomfortable. She couldn't tell if it was due to being associated with Barbara since, apparently, a lot of people somehow knew her, or if it was due to how awful she assumed she looked. Eric was the only one who seemed un-phased by it all and gave her a warm goodbye. He gave her his phone number in case she needed future help or needed someone to talk to. _At least **he** doesn't seem like he'd try to hurt me. _She thanked him again and walked out. _He's a bit young for me, but he's kind of cute._

The car ride to Barbara's condo was less than pleasant. It mostly consisted of Barbara trying to pry and find out what happened. _How many times do I have to say that I don't want to talk about it? You're my boss, not my mom._ Since she only ever wore eye makeup and lipstick, she decided to try and distract Barbara by striking up a conversation on what brand of foundation would help to best cover the bruise on her cheekbone. As Barbara chattered away, Scar felt herself mentally drifting off while staring out the backseat window.

* * *

"You coming or what?"

"Oh, sorry," Scar stepped out of the car and hurried after her new, blonde companion. She admired the way Barbara walked with confidence as if she always had a strong purpose. Scar had always been outspoken, but confident? Never. Barbara _oozed_ confidence. Scar had never been to Barbara's condo before or even spent more than 10-15 minutes at a time talking to her, but since she didn't want to go home, she didn't question it. After a long elevator ride, the two arrived.

High ceilings, leather furniture, and expensive taste covered the condo. "Okay, there's _no_ way you have this place just from owning a club!" Scar laughed, excitedly. All of her stress temporarily lifted and a giddy childlike feeling replaced it. She had always been obsessed with nice homes and hadn't been to one since the last time she pretended to be a buyer at a few local open houses. Barbara soaked in the admiration, "Don't you just love it? Wait until you see my closet."

Barbara proceeded to give Scar a dramatic tour of her eccentric 2-story condo and ordered food for the two of them. After eating the most expensive take-out she'd ever had in her life, Scar got the grand tour of Barbara's closet. There had to be at least fifty never-worn, designer dresses in there. When Barbara saw her eyeing a couple of outfits in particular, she smiled and said, "Do you want to have some of these to wear to work?" Scar shook her head, " _Ohhhh_ no, no way would I chance spilling a drink on one of your beautiful dresses, I would just—" Barbara interjected, "You mean on one of _your_ beautiful dresses. I insist, I want you to keep some of these."

 _Oh my god, I can't._

As if she could read Scar's mind, Barbara pushed, "Come on, you know you want to! Hell, I forgot I owned half of these. It's not biggie, you can just _owe_ me."

The next three hours consisted of trying on clothes, putting on face masks, and Scar learning how to properly use a curling iron. _She's amazing, I don't know what's wrong with Lee and her cop friends._ As the two began to wind down with a couple of glasses of wine, Barbara offered for her driver to take Scar home. Too embarrassed to admit why she didn't want to go back, Scar just thanked her and reluctantly accepted the offer. Thankfully, unlike Barbara, her driver was very quiet on the way to her condo and only spoke up to confirm where to turn.

When she finally got to the door of her condo, she felt a chill run down her spine. The door was still busted in. She pushed it open, threw down her new clothes, and tried to find her light-switch in the darkness. After turning it on, she propped a chair up under the doorknob to secure it and grabbed her baseball bat next to the door…a routine that was all too familiar. With shaky, nervous steps, she made sure that every room was clear. After feeling satisfied with the search, she went back for her beautiful new outfits so she could hang them up in her tiny, boring closet. She shoved them in next to her worn-out slacks and faded button-downs. _The joys of living off of tips._

* * *

She cried after getting out of the shower. No longer did she feel beautiful like her boss had made her temporarily feel. The bruising was obvious and the stitches weren't cute. She decided to crawl into bed with an icepack on her cheek. Despite being extremely tired, it was hard for her to sleep since every small noise made her jump. When the heater clicked on, she almost had a heart attack. She decided to take the opportunity to text Lee since she was still awake.

"It's Scarlet. I'm home safe. Falling asleep with an icepack isn't comfortable. 10/10 don't recommend. Thanks again for everything. Text me how much I owe you. See you soon? Night."

After putting her phone up to charge, Scar started to drift off, thinking of how much she looked forward to showing off her new outfits at work. She never really had friends, but now she felt closer to her boss and felt she had made a new friend due to Lee's kindness. Maybe with better clothes and her boss on her side, she could make more friends at work. _Maybe things are starting to look up._

Finally, she passed out from exhaustion.

Little did she know what kind of trouble her next shift would have in store for her.


	3. Chapter 3: We're Closed

Chapter Three: We're Closed

* * *

Sunlight poured into the room. Scar rolled over and looked at the clock on her nightstand. 3pm. _I haven't slept that long in months._ Her sore body cracked as she stretched out. She reached down, grabbed the cord of her phone charger, and pulled on it until her phone was within arm's reach. After flipping it open, she smiled.

"I'm glad you made it home safe. You owe me nothing, I was just doing my job as the medical examiner. Maybe we can grab a cup of coffee on me soon. –Lee"

Scar replied with a quick, "Definitely. Thank you." and got up to shower.

The cold water felt less-than-pleasant and she made added a note to her mental to-do list. _Search for a new place to live. Preferably one with less creepy neighbors, a better landlord, and a working water heater..._ She cut her shower short, stepped out, and wrapped a towel around her goosebump-covered body. _…aaand a central heating system._

* * *

The next ten days were spent taking some much-needed time off work to search for a new condo outside of the Narrows. Finally, after finding one in a much safer area, Scar decided to go ahead and put a down payment on it. Forever, she'd been renting from shady people for cheap, and that never seemed to work. _I'm over the days of broken doors and poor utilities._ After exchanging a contract for a key, she decided to invite Lee over to celebrate.

"Drinks at my place? I just bought a condo and my stuff is being moved in as I type! –Scar"

Lee immediately called her and excitedly accepted the offer. She said that it should be fine to take out Scar's stitches, anyway. She hurried over with a bag of bagels and the two briefly caught up. Lee asked about how the healing process was going, and Scar told her how surprisingly well it had been. When it came to the topic of going back to work later that night, Lee reminded Scar that she should get a new job. Scar brushed it off with a quick, "I'll be fine," not mentioning how much fun she had with Barbara the previous weekend. After taking out Scar's stiches and giving her an antibiotic to use, Lee left Scar alone to prepare for work.

Scar straightened her hair and put on one of the sparkly crop tops and high waisted pencil skirts Barbara had given her. Not quite comfortable with wearing heels again, she slipped on some flats and smiled at the mirror. _This looks so much better without as much bruising._

She took a cab to work and felt amazing as she walked into the lively club. The music and lights always set such an upbeat mood. She slipped behind the counter and immediately started serving as many people as possible. It was packed. Despite being generally anti-social, Scar always loved seeing others having so much fun. Not to mention, being busy made shifts go by faster and the tips were always much bigger. The more the merrier.

Before leaving for the night, Barbara gushed over how much she loved how Scar looked in something, "other than those ratty hand-me-downs." _Nice backhanded compliment…not all of us can afford designer wardrobes._ She tried to brush off the sneaky insult. After all, Barbara had just given her a ton of new clothes. _Just feel grateful._

Barbara asked if Scar was okay closing alone. Scar just nodded whilst counting her tips to avoid messing up on counting. Usually Barbara was always the last one there, but tonight she said she had to meet up with some friends for "business," then left. _Whatever that means._

* * *

It felt eerie but nice being in the club alone. This wasn't the first time she had closed alone, but it didn't happen too often. She cleaned each glass meticulously then carefully organized each one onto a shelf. Her mom always told her to do everything with pride, even if it meant just pouring drinks for strangers and cleaning dishes. She smiled to herself thinking of how many compliments she had received throughout the night on her new wardrobe.

Her smile quickly faded when the main door creaked open and the shadow of a person appeared.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Well, we're closed, so…" her voice trailed off as the familiar figure stepped into the light.

The man who had continuously brought her nothing but pain for the last year whistled, "Wow, you look…beautiful."

Scar began to choke up and felt her voice let out a small croak when she tried to let a yell escape.

"Now, now, don't be like this. Look, I'm so sorry, baby…I love—"

She threw the glass she had been cleaning at his head and made a line for the door. Her temples pulsed as she frantically scrambled down each flight of stairs, jumping down as many at a time as she could make. The sound of her boyfriend's feet pounding after her mixed in with his threats felt almost unbearable.

"If I catch you, I'll fucking kill you!" he yelled after her. He kept repeating and emphasizing, "D'you hear me? I'll _kill_ you!"

He was clearly catching up and Scar almost felt hopeless. When she slammed out of the emergency exit at the bottom of the seemingly endless stairs, she stumbled out onto the street without paying any attention.

Crash.

* * *

The car hit her like a brick wall yet still felt like saving grace. As she tumbled across the hood and slammed onto the concrete, she felt a sense of morbid appreciation. A man got out of the backseat and yelled, "Well that's just great! Now we have to figure out what to do with _this_ problem," as he limped over to her body. Another man out of Scar's blurry view got out of the car.

She felt her heart begin to pound even harder as her ex pushed his way out of the door, still screaming threats. He stopped mid-sentence, clearly startled by the sight in front of him, and tried to gain his composure.

"Oh my god, what have you done? That's my _girlfriend_!" As he stepped forward and raised a fist towards the well-dressed man, the one previously out of view stepped forward, aiming his gun straight at the psychotic beast. The man was clearly used to conflict by the way he so casually drew his gun. He was tall, confident.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Scar heard the man with the gun calmly say.

She closed her eyes, succumbing to dizziness, but tried to keep listening. In any normal relationship, a gun being pointed at one's boyfriend would be horrific. For Scar, it was a relief.

"Whoa, I don't want any trouble, just let me take her home. I'm Jason, her boyfrie-."

"And do you not know who I am?!" the well-dressed one dramatically yelled, hobbling closer to him, "Because _clearly_ …ya don't. And in case you haven't noticed, Victor here is going to blow your head off if you say **one** more word!"

The sound of the loaded gun being cocked echoed in the street.

Jason stuttered out, "Look man, j-just let me take her, and—"

A gunshot fired and for a split second, Scar thought Jason had been shot. When she heard the sound of his bounding footsteps hauling down the cement, she realized the shot must have been fired deliberately elsewhere to scare him off. She heard footsteps get closer to her and felt a figure standing over her.

"Uhh…boss?"

" **What** , Victor?"

"She looks like the one from the Sirens Club who turned up at the police station a week or so ago."

"Well isn't that just perfect! The last thing we need is Barbara trying to use this against us. Just drop her off somewhere." The off-set footsteps walked back to the car and opened the door.

"What about the boyfriend?" Victor asked.

"What about him?" the well-dressed man said before letting himself into the car and slamming the door.

Victor groaned as the car sped off. He flipped out his phone and made a call. "Yeah. 36th and Grand. There's a woman I need you to bring to Barbara Kean. I'll explain later." He hung up then paced until a car pulled up across the street on the other side of the road.

When his footsteps faded away, Scar squinted her eyes to see if he had left. When she saw him speaking to a driver, back facing her, she took it as the opportunity to muster up as much strength as she could and make a break for it.

 _If he's willing to shoot a stranger, I don't want to meet his friends._

She didn't bother look back as she ducked in and out of apartment complexes, trying to flee the scene. When she felt she wasn't being followed, she ducked into an alley, pulled out her phone, and called Barbara.

Twenty minutes later, a car pulled up near the dumpster Scar had been hiding behind. Barbara ran out of the car and dramatically threw her arms around Scar, exclaiming, "I am _so_ sorry! I know about crazy exes, _trust_ me."

Scar had told Barbara over the phone about Jason breaking into the club but decided to skip out on getting lightly hit by a car. The two men seemed to know Barbara. It seemed like the more she got out, the more she ran into people who knew Barbara…and didn't like her.

* * *

Barbara had her driver drop off Scar at her new place, said goodbye, and drove off. Scar walked into the building, took the elevator up to her floor, and put her key in the door. She felt a chill go up her spine. It felt like someone was watching her. She took her key out and walked a little ways down the hall. She didn't see anyone, but still felt…off. Regardless, she opened the door to her condo, and hurried in.

 _You're just being paranoid after tonight._

The much bigger, nicer condo felt like paradise to come home to. Even better than the size was the shower. She slipped out of her clothes and hopped in. _Finally. Warm water._

After drying off and putting on pajamas, she headed up to the loft and plopped down on her bed, inhaling the scent of the fresh, new sheets. She curled up under the covers, plugged in her phone, and turned off the light.

Despite feeling comfortable as ever, she couldn't seem to fall asleep. She kept thinking about the dramatic man with a limp and his fearless companion. It all felt like a weird dream despite occurring only a few hours ago. _It's Gotham, what else is new?_ She eventually fell asleep with mixed feelings. They may have seemed less than friendly, but they probably saved her life. Whether it was on purpose or not, she was grateful.

* * *

Author's Note: In case you all were wondering, I picture Scar's new condo like The Ogre's condo. I like to know how the author visualizes things, so I decided to tell you all that. I always thought that his condo had a really cool, open layout, so that's how her condo looks in my head, with the balcony above having an open area for her bed. I hope you all are enjoying my story. I'll be posting my notes on odd-numbered chapters.


	4. Chapter 4: VIP Guest

Chapter Four: VIP Guest

* * *

Scar woke up and stretched out in bed. _Even with getting hit by a car, that was the best night's sleep I've had in a long time._ She slipped on a pair of house shoes and made her way to the kitchen. She opened to fridge just to see disappointment. _Right. Note to self. Go to the grocery store soon._

After taking a quick shower, she wrapped her wrist up since she fell on it the previous night. Thankfully, that was the only thing that felt uncomfortably sore. She put on sparkly white eyeshadow with a smoked out black shadow around the edges, winged out some liquid liner, and called it good. Face makeup had never been her thing. It felt too uncomfortable and lacked authenticity. She threw her hair up in a ponytail to let it dry and decided to go out to find food.

She slipped on a pair of worn out jeans, put on a sweater, and grabbed a large coat. The cold air outside hit her wet hair and immediately sent a chill down her spine. _Note to self, again. Get a car eventually._ She walked down to a local market and picked out some essentials. On the way home, she kept looking around, feeling like she was being watched. The thought of Jason managing to find out where she relocated crossed her mind, but she quickly tried to shoo away the thought. _Breathe._

Making extra sure that no one was behind her, she set her groceries down and unlocked the door to her condo. When she set the bags down on the counter, she quickly went to the door to lock it. Paranoia wouldn't be leaving her any time soon whether she liked it or not. The joys of having abusive partners. She joked with herself aloud, "Maybe I should hire those _lovely_ men from last night to be my body guards." Of course, she secretly hoped she'd never see them again. Not like she could recognize anything but their voices or the one's limp. She was too busy pretending to be unconscious to try to sneak a solid peek.

Since she had a few hours to blow before having to get ready for another shift, she decided to tell Lee the truth…at least the parts she felt comfortable admitting. She flipped out her phone and dialed Lee up.

After a few rings, Lee picked up, "Hello?"

"Hey, Lee, it's Scar. Is it okay if I stop by the station to talk?"

"Oh hi! Are you okay?" she asked.

Scar let out a nervous laugh, "Yeeaahhh, sort of. I'm ready to put in a statement about what really happened when we met. I think I might be in danger."

"Hold on," Lee put the phone to her chest and called out for someone, "Okay, I just confirmed that all of the officers you met at the station will be here this afternoon. Can I have one of them pick you up?"

"That's fine, I'd prefer that to taking a cab," Scar felt relieved. The last thing she needed to do was chance running into someone Jason knew. He was always the socialite. "Do you want me to text you my address again?"

"Sure, I can send someone now. It might take a quite a bit of time if you're going to give an official statement. Do you have time?" Lee asked.

Scar pulled away from her phone to look at the clock on her stove, "Umm, I guess. I'll just put on my work clothes early. I hate to ask, but could I get a ride to work as well? I doubt running to work in a dress and heels would be super fun."

"Of course," Lee said, "Don't let anyone in unless it's one of us, okay? Please be safe."

Lee's sense of urgency concerned Scar. _Are domestic disputes usually this serious?_ "Okay, I will. Thank you for everything, Lee. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon." Lee hung up and Scar realized she had to hurry up and get dressed.

* * *

The movers she had hired brought all of her stuff over, but didn't help to unload boxes, so she had to rummage through various boxes to try to find something to wear. She settled on a black vinyl tube dress with knee-high black vinyl boots to match. After walking into the bathroom to take a look, she laughed out loud, "I look like a hooker. Damn, Babs, where do you get these things?" After making some ridiculous poses in the mirror to amuse herself, she heard a knock on the door.

She slowly tip-toed to the living room in hopes that her heels wouldn't make any noise and felt her heart start to pound.

The banging on the door got louder, but this time was followed by, "It's Detective Bullock, I'm here to take you down to the station."

"Oh, coming!" she yelled, rushing to the door.

When she opened it, Harvey's eyes widened, "You _can't_ be the same girl from last time I saw you."

Scar laughed, "Yeah, it's funny how much different I look without dried blood and runny eyeliner down my face."

Harvey scoffed, "That's not all I meant, but fair point."

"Do you mind if I grab a jacket before we head out?" Scar asked, "I'm going to freeze to death otherwise."

"Oh, here," Harvey quickly scrambled out of his suit jacket, "You can use mine."

Scar looked at him and smirked as if to say, " _I'm onto you."_

He walked over and wrapped his coat around her shoulders, "It just doesn't look like you've really unpacked, and I don't want to waste time, of course."

"Of course," Scar repeated, oozing sarcasm.

She smiled and the two left. The entire car ride was spent with Harvey trying to talk about his impressive escapades with the GCPD and Scar listening intently. _I knew Gotham was bad, but not this bad._

* * *

When they got to the station, Lee met the pair at the front.

She pulled Scar into a hug, "I'm so proud of you. You're doing the right thing, I promise."

Scar hugged her back, "Yeah, well after last night, I wasn't left with much of a choice."

Harvey and Lee led Scar to an interrogation room. When Scar looked over at Lee, concerned, Lee calmly said, "Don't worry, it's just protocol. It's the safest room in the building, you'll be fine."

Scar took a deep breath and walked in.

Eric was already sitting on one side of the table, and Harvey told Scar to sit next to him. When she sat down Eric's mouth parted slightly, "Y-You look…amazing," he stuttered out.

Scar felt her heart jump. Genuine compliments always made her **feel** amazing. "Thank you! These are my work clothes. I don't know if they told you, but I work at a club and bartend. The boss always tells me that presentation is key to making tips."

He smiled and looked down at the table, "It's nice to see you again."

"It's nice to see you, too, Eric," Scar said, warmly.

Jim walked in and sat across from the two. Lee and Harvey stepped out and closed the door. "Good to see you're doing well. I was concerned whe—" he paused and raised his eyebrows, "—is that Harvey's jacket?"

She laughed, "He insisted I borrow it."

"Typical Harvey," he sighed, shaking his head, "Anyway, I just need you to answer some questions as honestly as you can. Officer Graves here will do the same regarding the morning he found you. He's also here as a secondary witness to your testimony."

"Am I in trouble?" Scar asked.

Jim smirked, "No, you're not in trouble. It's standard protocol in case we decide to make an arrest on the individual who's threatened to bring you harm. It's essentially for your protection."

Scar took a deep breath, "Okay, sorry, I've just…never done this before."

"Well, that's good! It means you've never been in trouble with the law," Jim said, "Now, I know your information thanks to Dr. Thompkins, but I need you to tell me about the individual you feel threatened by…name, height, age, weight, how long you've known the individual, what happened…as much as you can. Can you do that for me?"

Scar nodded, "Yes…sorry, I'm nervous…"

"You don't need to be afraid. I promise Harvey and I will personally see to this problem," Jim reassured her.

"It's just not easy to talk about. I've never talked to anyone about him," Scar said.

Jim wrote something on a sheet of paper, "Let's start small, then. Can you name and describe him?"

Scar closed her eyes, "His name is Jason Dumaul. He's my boyfriend…er… **ex** -boyfriend. Ever since I moved to Gotham, I've been with him. We met in the park. He was nice at first. Really nice. That changed when I moved in. He said he loved me. He said if I loved him, I'd never leave, no matter what he did…" she trailed off and bit her bottom lip.

Eric put his hand on her shoulder, "It's okay."

She took a deep breath and continued, "…and so it started with drinking…then cutting me off from my friends and family…it finally escalated to violence. No matter how many times he'd hit me, I'd always come back until this last time a couple of months ago. The first time you all saw me, he had broken into my apartment and continued to hit me until I finally got away. I thought I was done after that, but he came to my workplace last night and threatened to kill me."

Jim finished writing all of this information down then looked up, "And how did you get away?"

Her heart started pounding and she just simply stated, "I knew the building better than he did. I ran and lost him eventually."

Jim looked her in the eyes. She couldn't tell if he was skeptical or not. "Alright, I won't ask you to conjure up any details of past instances until after we speak to him. Can we get a physical description?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, um, he has dark brown eyes, a black crew cut, a bunch of tribal tattoos on his upper arms, and he's taller than I am," she replied.

Jim nodded, scribbling more onto the sheet of paper, "That's good, the tattoos should help ID him. Go ahead and write down his address and a current phone number for him if you have one."

He slid the paper over to Scar and she wrote down everything he asked for, then added his favorite bar as a tip on where to find him.

"Now, unless you have any questions, you're free to leave. I have to ask Officer Graves a few questions, but you don't need to stay for those," Jim said, "Thank you for your time."

Scar tried to think of a question, but nothing came to mind, "Thanks, Detective. Please keep in contact with me."

"I will," he said, stretching out his hand out to shake hers, "and you can just call me Jim. I'm not really a detective anymore, I just help out when Harvey needs me and the Captain's away. I'd actually prefer you keep this between us few…Barnes isn't fond of me interfering with investigations."

She accepted, then put a hand on Eric's back, "Thank you, too. I'll keep in touch with you guys if I see or hear anything."

Eric smiled shyly, "Please be safe."

Scar smiled back and walked out.

Lee quickly approached and asked how it went.

"I'm fine," Scar said, "That was quicker than I thought it'd be, and I choked it out, so it's okay. As long as my eyeliner isn't smeared."

Lee laughed, "You look great. Do you still need a ride to work?"

"That'd be nice. The drive here was the longest part, and I know Sirens is across town." Scarlet said.

Lee's smiled faded slightly, "Have you considered a new job?"

Harvey walked up and inserted himself into the conversation, "Now, now, if she wants to make tips, let her."

"Oh really?" Lee scoffed, "Weren't you the one so insistent that she get a new boss last time she was here?"

"Well, she's an adult, she can handle herself," Harvey said.

Lee shook her head, "Uh-Huh, yeah. Just get her to work safely, okay?"

He saluted her sarcastically, "Aye-aye, captain," then turned to Scar, "You ready?"

She nodded her head and said goodbye to Lee.

* * *

On the way to work, Scar briefly explained what all Jason had done to her and that Jim said they'd find him. Harvey seconded that statement and gave her his phone number in case something came up at work. He then got on the phone and called a couple of officers to stay outside of the Sirens club just in case Jason decided to show. When Harvey parked, Scar gave him his coat back and thanked him. He offered to take her home, but she insisted that it wasn't too far of a walk and that she'd call if she changed her mind. The two awkwardly said goodbye and Scar got out of the car.

She felt a shiver crawl up her skin as she passed crossed the street she had been hit by a car on the previous night. _Thank God they were going slow._ She went inside and got into the elevator with another co-worker. Her co-worker told her that Barbara told everyone about what happened the previous night and that she felt so bad that Scar had to close alone. _Thanks, Barbara, I love it when everyone knows about my personal life. Not._ She politely thanked her co-worker for the condolences and exited the elevator when it came to a stop.

After the bar got busy, Barbara frantically approached Scar, "I don't know why and I don't know what you did, but we have a **VIP** who specifically asked for you to wait on him."


	5. Chapter 5: Sit Down

Chapter Five: Sit Down

* * *

Despite her efforts to see who it was, the crowd was too thick for Scar to even see the VIP section. "Just tell me who it is, Barbara, you're freaking me out," she insisted, "If it's the big of a deal, just tell someone else to go wait on them."

Barbara leaned in and hissed into Scar's ear, " _Zsasz_ said only you'll do. He hasn't been here in a few weeks, so I have no idea what he wants."

Her heart started to pound. She had never met Zsasz but had seen him in passing during a violent disruption downtown and had heard many horrible things about him. _What would an assassin want to do with me? Did Jason send him? Surely not, he doesn't have the money to hire someone like Zsasz._

Barbara gave her a quick hug, "I don't know why he's here, but good luck."

"Thanks," Scar mumbled, shaking.

She grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine. The room was packed, so making it back to the VIP lounge would be a feat in itself. When she finally made it back there, the curtains were closed.

 _Yep, I'm dead._

* * *

Scar knocked on the wall next to the edge of one of the curtains and heard a deep, "Yeah."

She took that as an invitation to come in and slipped between the drapes. There in front of her lounged Gotham's most infamous assassin, one leg leaned against the other, and both arms draped across the top of the booth.

He tilted his head to one side, "You look…different."

A chill shot down her spine and she stood there speechless. Different. As if he'd seen her before. His voice did hold familiarity, but she was too stunned to even try to think of where she'd heard it.

"Sit down," he insisted, "We need to talk."

She nervously set down the glass and bottle and took a seat beside him, but as far away as possible. His hand was way too close to her shoulder for comfort and she started to imagine herself quickly being put into a chokehold.

When she didn't respond, he continued with, "Relax. I don't think I'm going to have to kill you."

Her teeth dug into the left side of her cheek as she tried to stay calm. Despite his effort to make her feel relaxed, the words _I don't think_ kept ringing through her head.

He scoffed, "Can you talk, or..?"

She slowly nodded and choked out a small, "Yes," looking down at the table rather than at him.

"Good. I need to make sure we understand each other," he said, "My name is Victor Zsasz…"

 _Victor._ She looked up and locked eyes with him. It all started to make sense. Of course, the one time she gets saved from Jason it has to be by Zsasz.

"…but you clearly already know that based on how you're acting," he finished.

"I…I really don't know what to say," she said.

He shrugged, "Fine. All I need you to say is that what you may have seen or heard never happened."

She swallowed hard and nodded, "Deal. No clue what you're talking about."

"Now normally I would threaten to kill you and call it a day," he said, opening the bottle of wine, "but you had to go and talk to the GCPD today. That makes things a bit more…complicated."

Scar felt like she couldn't breathe in her latex dress and was afraid she might pass out. Zsasz was the last person she expected to see that night, and she definitely didn't want him to see their situation as complicated. "They don't know anything," she said.

He smirked and narrowed his eyes, "Riiiight. I have to tell you, I've heard that a lot, and usually it's—"

She frantically interrupted him, "I'm serious! I didn't even tell Barbara, no one knows! I only went to the police for protection."

"From what?" he asked, "Your charming boyfriend?"

"Please don't call him that," she said, starting to shake, "I'm sorry, I just don't want to talk about him, I think I'm officially done with that situation, and probably have you to thank."

"I've shot a lot of women, stabbed a couple on occasion, but I won't hit one for no reason. That's kind of lame…Besides, it'd take the fun out of everything," he said, "He seemed like he had it coming, I just didn't want to have to clean up a mess."

 _It'd take the fun out of everything. Nice reasoning._

"I'm a bit concerned about Harvey Bullock going into your condo earlier and you coming out with his clothes on," he said, "I don't need him making things even more complicated."

Scar felt a surge of anger, "Okay, really? It was a jacket, not his tie. He was being nice and drove me to the station so I—"

"I know, so you could go give a statement. Now don't make me ask you again…relax. What I don't know is what you told them," he said, impatiently, "And don't take it personally, you haven't seen Bullock's track record with women. I just have to be sure."

"I just told them that Jason came to the club, and that I got away," Scar said.

"Who did you speak to?" he asked.

"Jim," she replied, "Jim Gordon, he's a detective...or, I guess, ex-detective…I'm not super clear on that situation."

Zsasz laughed, "I know who Jim is, I actually like him a lot. He used to work for the GCPD, but word on the street is he does some bounty work now. That's good to hear, he won't be a problem."

Scar stared, confused, "I mean…he seemed a bit suspicious that I said I got away so easily, but…"

"Yeah, that's fine," he said, "I can always drop by and pay him a visit."

Zsasz saw Scar's face drastically change and followed up with, "No, no, not that kind of visit."

She let out a sigh of relief then asked, "Sooo…what now? Are we okay?"

He tilted his head and let out a skeptical, "Ehhh, we'll see. I'm not too worried about you, but just in case, know I _will_ be keeping an eye on you, per one of the boss's request."

"That's oddly comforting considering Jason is still out there," she said, letting out a nervous laugh, "Now I don't have to feel too worried about walking home."

"Oh, you're not walking home alone tonight anyway," Zsasz said, "There are three police cars on the street and I wouldn't want you impulsively talking about our…chat."

Scar felt her heart drop. _Being watched from afar is one thing, being directly next to him for even longer is another._

"It'll be _fun_ ," he said, smiling sarcastically, "I'm a great guy. So great, actually, that you're coming with me right now and I'm cutting your shift short."

She shook her head, "Look, I just bought a new condo, and Barbara—"

He stood up and interrupted, "Barbara is literally the least threatening person in Gotham to me, and the boss told me to pay you off to cooperate with me. Makes both of our jobs easier."

She slowly took her cue to stand up and Zsasz grabbed her arm. "Wait? What are you—" He dragged her out of the room and shot two bullets into the ceiling.

* * *

Everyone in the club ducked down and the room fell silent. Zsasz looked across the room to Barbara and said, "I'm taking your pretty bartender. Cool?"

She drilled holes into his eyes from across the room, then shouted back, "Scar, are you okay?"

Scar nodded her head, shocked.

"Okay, cool," Zsasz said, "Later!"

Barbara flipped him off as he pulled Scar out of the room with him.

"What the actual hell was that?!" she asked when he let go of her as they reached the elevator.

"It's easy to get under her skin," he said.

Scar pushed her hair out of her face, "Okay, well, can you **not** jerk me around without warning?"

He shrugged, "Wouldn't be as fun without a genuine reaction."

"You're massive and I'm in heels," she said, pouting.

"What, do you want to be carried next time?" he asked, laughing.

 _Next time. What an ass._

The elevator opened and he sternly said, "Get in. When we get outside, I expect you to do what I say."

On the ride down he explained that he wanted her to tell one of the cops outside that she truly was okay walking home and then he wanted her to meet him in an alleyway a couple of streets over. There, he would escort her home. She did exactly as asked when she got down to the police cars, making sure to lay on an extra layer of politeness, then started to walk to meet up with Zsasz.

* * *

She felt a hand grab her waist and another put over her mouth as she let out a quick scream. "Shh," Zsasz whispered, holding her close to him.

After struggling out of his grip on her mouth she started to yell, " **What** is your prob—"

"Seriously, shut up," he interrupted in a quiet, stern voice. The urgency in his words told her that something was wrong.

Footsteps and voices got louder towards them from around the corner. Zsasz shifted his hold to have Scar more behind him and to his side. He pulled out his gun with the other and pointed it towards the open road.

"Stay behind me and don't look," he said, letting go of her and drawing his other gun.

She rested her head and one of her hands against his back, feeling his heart beating rapidly. His cologne filled her lungs as she pressed into his body.

"Hey! I found—" she heard another man shout.

Multiple gunshots rattled off and her hand tightly grabbed Zsasz's jacket. She felt his body slightly jolt with every shot. It quickly fell silent, but she refused to let go of him. He forced her to as he quickly turned around and shot a man behind Scar.

She rested her head into his chest, shaking.

"I don't mean to ruin the moment," he said sarcastically, "but we have to go. Now."

He led her out of the alley and quickly through a few shortcuts until they reached her condo. In complete silence, they rode the elevator to her floor. Without question, she let him into the condo. When she shut the door, she slid to the floor, stunned.

* * *

Zsasz walked over to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water, and set it onto the table. He made his was to Scar and held out his hand, "Come on."

She took it, and he helped her up and over to the couch. He sat down next to her, visibly frustrated and not sure what to say.

She broke his train of thought by saying, "Are they all..?"

"Yeah," he said, plainly.

They both sat in silence until he reached over, untwisted the cap to the water bottle, and handed it to her. "Drink. It'll help take off the edge."

She grabbed the bottle with a shaky hand and took a few hurried sips. Zsasz stood up and started pacing behind the couch.

"You weren't supposed to be there," he said, "Someone must have told them I was at the Siren's club."

He stopped and went back to the couch. He kneeled down in front of Scar, "Look at me."

She blinked out a tear and stared into his eyes.

"Did you recognize the man behind you?" he asked.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered out, shaking her head.

"What do you know about Barbara Kean?" he asked.

She closed her eyes, "That everyone seems to know her and not many people like her."

He grabbed her arm lightly to make her look at him again, "Is that it?"

"I promise…" she whispered, "…please don't hurt me."

He let go. "I'm not going to. I believe you…but I need you to know that your boss just tried to kill us."

Scar's breathing got heavier, "She _what?_ "

"Now I need you to listen very carefully to me. You have to pretend you weren't with me in that alleyway and you have to go to your next shift like nothing happened," he said.

"Oh, yeah, okay," she said, hysterically laughing, "I almost get killed by my own boss, only am alive because the infamous Zsasz was my escort, and I'm supposed to pretend none of this happened? Okay, right."

He closed his eyes, frustrated, " **Listen** to me. I didn't want to get this involved with you and I didn't want things to get more complicated, but they are and we can't change that. I know what I'm doing."

"I know, your reputation is well-known, and you just killed a bunch of thugs right next to me," she said, "I have no choice but to trust you at this point. What are we going to do?"

He stood up and said, " _We_ aren't going to do anything. _You_ are going to go to sleep, get dolled up tomorrow night, and go to work. Then _you_ are going to tell Barbara I was just making a show last night and I let you go. You have to make that part believable, because I'd never do that, but we don't have many lie-related options here. Now, _I_ am going to talk to a few people about retaliation and how they want me to handle this situation. I'll keep in touch." He started to head to the door.

"Zsasz!" she called after him.

He stopped and turned back around, "Yeah? Was I not clear enough?"

She got up and hurried over to him, "Thank you," she said sticking out her hand, "I'm Scar."

He just stared at it and said, "Yeeaaaahhh, I know who you are…and I'm going to call you Scarlet. You can call me Victor if you want, I don't care."

She put her hand down and folded her arms, "What if I don't want to be called that?"

"That's fine, you don't have to like it," he said, smirking, "Oh, and you look a lot better when you aren't pretending to be unconscious on asphalt. Don't think I didn't let you get away."

Her mouth parted in shock and he said, "Wear something red tomorrow, so I know you haven't changed sides on me. See ya."

* * *

With that, he left, leaving Scar feeling confused and questioning if the night really happened. After locking the door, she slowly walked to the refrigerator. A stack of twenties was left where the water bottle Zsasz had taken previously sat. She counted them out in disbelief. _Five-thousand dollars. Holy shit._ She went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the dress fell from her body, she finally felt like she could breathe again. _Note to self. Don't wear latex if you might get unofficially abducted by an assassin._ She stepped into the shower and felt the warm water run over her. _Great. I smell like Victor Zsasz and gunpowder. I shouldn't even know what that man smells like._ After washing her hair and body, she put on a set of pajamas and headed up the stairs to bed.

Each step still felt shaky as she crawled underneath the sheets. Mixed thoughts and emotions came over her as she tried to sleep. _I thought Barbara and I were friends. I should be more scared of Victor Zsasz. Who, really, is Barbara? I could've died tonight._ She rolled over to check her phone. Naturally, the one night she might have needed it, she had forgotten it at home. A text read: "Hey, it's Harvey. Make it home okay?" and two missed calls from Lee were noted. She quickly texted back: "Yeah, sorry, I passed out the second I got home and just woke up to get a drink. Thanks!" After putting her phone away, she decided to try not to think about all that had happened and go to sleep.

Unfortunately, her ears were still ringing from the gunshots.

* * *

Author's Note: I really wanted these last couple of chapters to show the emotional conflict Scar has to deal with. She doesn't realize how badly the abuse affected her, and doesn't know how to properly react to violence. Notice how quickly she is to try to befriend someone who does something nice for her. She so quickly grew to trust Barbara and the others, and now she's trusting Zsasz. I see her like Oswald in a way...she's so used to being treated like shit, so when someone is remotely nice to her (even if that someone is a killer), she accepts them as a potential friend.


	6. Chapter 6: Please Don't Go

After sleeping in much longer than intended, Scar spent the day running errands. She stopped into the police station to check in with Lee and ask more about Barbara Kean. "I'll only tell you if it means you'll quit working for her," Lee had said. She learned of Barbara's past with Jim, along with her relationship with The Ogre that lead to her killing her parents. Lee got interrupted with another task when she started to talk about how Barbara tried to kill her. Scar thanked her for her time and left the station to continue her errands. The rest of the afternoon was spent pondering over this newfound information, and thinking about how the night was going to pan out.

* * *

Scar looked in the mirror as she finished touching up her deep burgundy lipstick. Her heart pounded out of her chest as she practiced faking different emotions. _Smile. Good. Shock! Good. Anger. Decent, but a little too hysterical. Can I even fake cry? …yeah…no…that needs work._ She pulled off her jeans and t-shirt then put her hands over her heart. _Breathe._ After walking over to her kitchen counter, she reached inside of a bag and pulled out a red gown. She hadn't gone shopping in ages, but considering she magically received $500 and didn't own a full red outfit, she decided it was time to go out and treat herself.

She twirled around the living room, watching the mock-silk gown flow around. It was cut at the mid-thigh and tapered to the back until it touched the floor. The waist was pulled in along with the sleeves. _This is so much more elegant than the latex._ She slipped on a pair of black pumps, deciding that they'd be easier to run in than heels. _Great. I'm already thinking about having to run._ She grabbed a long, black coat and headed for the door.

It was still pretty light outside since she was going to open the bar rather than close it, so she decided it'd be fine to walk. On the way, she felt a surge of confidence pulse through her body. The feeling that Victor Zsasz or one of his accomplices might be watching her back gave her a sense of invincibility. What an odd thought, considering just a day ago the thought of Zsasz gave her the creeps. _At least he would tell me if he wanted to kill me instead of pretending being nice and giving me half of his wardrobe._

Scar took a deep breath before stepping through the doors at work. There stood Barbara, talking to another woman. She turned and her jaw slightly dropped, "Scar…it's so good to see you…unharmed."

"I must've gotten lucky!" Scar laughed, "He just let me go and I took a cab home."

"Lucky, huh?" Barbara said, both smiling and glaring, "You should've called."

"Oh, well…I mean…I wasn't _that_ lucky…" Scar shrugged, "…I mean, he threatened me and all…sorry, I just was a bit scared. I've never had to run into someone like that before. I never knew the monsters in Gotham came out in public so often."

The woman with Barbara scoffed, "She must be new."

"No, not really. I just don't get out enough," Scar said, "You know, it's kind of funny, when I first moved here, I thoug—"

"What did Zsasz want?" Barbara interrupted, clearly unamused.

"Nothing, really," Scar said, "He just said he wanted to send a message or something..? Whatever that means."

The woman next to Barbara laughed, "She's not **that** stupid."

"Now, now, Tabby…" Barbara smiled, "…play nice."

Scar had always envied Barbara's confidence, but today? She felt it.

Another worked came in to break the tension and asked, "Is it okay to open the doors? We're starting to get a line."

Still staring at Scar, Barbara cooed out, "Of course."

Scar pretended that nothing was wrong, just as she was told to, and let herself into the bar to begin her shift. It took less than an hour for the club to get stuffed with people. Tips were flowing as fast as she was pouring drinks, and she was eating up every dirty look Barbara shot her. Every time she got a chance, she looked around for her new companion. She even tried to tell if someone else in the room was sent by him to watch after her…but the only eyes consistently glued to her were that of Barbara and her dark-haired acquaintance.

When it was almost time to go, she looked around one last time. Still no Zsasz. She couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed but reminded herself that he has better things to do than be her personal bodyguard. Besides, he had said that he trusted her, so maybe he didn't feel the need to follow her everywhere. Even though her experience with him had been less than pleasant, it still wasn't nearly as bad as she would've expected it to be. _I don't know…he's kind of…interesting._ After taking a deep breath, she reminded herself of three important things. _This isn't a game. You're not his spy. He kills people for a living._

On her way out, Scar ran into Barbara, who smiled, and leaned in for a hug, "Tell your boyfriend I said hi."

"Tell him yourself," Scar said back, pulling away, "I heard that 'abusive asshole' is your type as of late."

* * *

The elevator doors opened on the bottom floor and Scar stepped out, fuming. _What. A. Bitch. Way to go from pretending to actually be my friend to acting like that. It's no wonder I can't seem to make friends in Gotham. Maybe it's just not meant to be._ She looked around to make sure none of Barbara's associates were on the bottom floor as she walked to the exit.

After stepping out into the cold, she heard a voice call out, "Red suits you."

She spun around and smiled, "Victor!" _That sounded way too excited. Chill._

He smirked, "Come on. I'm taking you home. I drove this time, to not chance anything."

After some hesitation, she followed him to his car and got in, reminding herself that under any other circumstances, getting into a car with Victor Zsasz would be a death wish. _Damned if you do, damned if you don't._ He started driving to her condo, carefully checking his mirrors to make sure they weren't being followed.

"Did it work?" he asked.

Scar reached down and grabbed a knife from in between the seats, curiously toying with it, "Did what work?"

"Did Barb— **don't** touch that."

Scar jumped, immediately feeling like a child getting scolded, "Sorry…"

He continued, "Did Barbara seem suspicious?"

"Definitely. She had some woman with her. Abby or something?" Scar said.

"Abby…?" Victor thought for a minute then laughed, "Do you mean _Tabby_?"

Scar snapped her fingers, "Yeah! Yeah, she seemed very annoyed with me, too."

"That's Tabitha Galavan. Do you really not know about either of them?" he asked.

"Sorry…" she said, feeling stupid, "I just learned a little bit more about Barbara today, but I've always just seen her as the woman who signs my checks."

"It's not bad, just surprising. I wish I didn't know either of them," he laughed, "When did you say you moved here?"

She sighed, "Not very long ago…wait…okay, a while ago. I guess time has kind of escaped me since I moved here. I never have gotten out much and don't pay attention to the news. It's just. I don't know. I never did. I guess it was—"

"Because of the boyfriend," he said for her, then before she could correct him, he corrected himself with, "… **ex** -boyfriend."

After debating whether or not to say anything, she blurted out, "Are you doing that on purpose? You seem really meticulous, and I know it's not that hard to remember, but you've done it a few times now."

"No," he said, "I don't like him. People like him get in my way and make my job harder."

"Look…" she started, inhaling slowly, "…I get that you met me yesterday…and I understand that you're one of the most wanted men in the country, so you probably don't give a damn…but I don't really appreciate when you make comments like that."

He parked on the curb outside of her condo and looked over at her, "Like _what_?"

"Like _that_. Like you don't give a fuck about everything he's done to me. Again, you don't know me, and I know that you don't have any reason to give a shit, so I get it…but you could make it a little less obvious if you're going to force me to be around you."

He looked away, "I don't mean it like that. I don't think like most people do. I'll try to keep that in mind."

"I know I shouldn't be telling the most notorious hitman in Gotham what to do," she said, "but I appreciate the effort…just don't bring him up, and don't try to kill me. That's all I ask."

He laughed softly, "I don't want to kill you."

"What an odd compliment," she said, about to open the car door.

" **Stop** ," he said, locking the doors and looking straight past her.

Her heart started pounding, "Why?"

He didn't respond and kept staring out her window. "Zsasz, talk to me. You're freaking me out."

"Something's wrong," he said, scanning the area, "I saw something move."

Scar sighed, clutching her chest, "You almost gave me a heart attack. It's Gotham, people walk at night."

"That's _obviously_ not what I meant." He looked at her then back at the door to the condo complexes and nodded towards them, "Someone's waiting right inside the door. I know it." He looked back at her, "Do you trust me, Scarlet?"

The way he asked sent a chill down her spine, "I…I mean…I have to…you saved my life yesterday, so…"

He nodded, "Then I need you to listen to me. Get out of the car."

"What? After you told me—"

"I can't afford to shoot someone inside of your complex. I already didn't plan on what happened last night. I also can't afford to get shot _by_ someone inside of your complex. Trust me. I won't let anything happen," he said, "but you _have_ to trust me."

He got out of the car and Scar stayed seated, frozen. He opened the car door for her, "Come on."

She took a deep breath and got out of the car. Standing closely behind her, Victor told Scar to walk forward. When she opened the door, no one was there.

Scar felt a wave of relief, but Victor continued to be on edge.

When the elevator doors opened, Scar scoffed. _Yep. He's just paranoid._ She started to step in, "Zsasz, I told you s—"

Jason stepped into sight from the side of the elevator. Victor grabbed her by the arm and threw her to the ground, giving Jason the chance to slash his blade at Victor. Scar sunk to the floor, stunned. Jason tried to swing at Victor again. Victor grabbed a knife strapped to his boot as he ducked and plunged it straight into Jason's stomach, "You know, I'm usually a gun kind of man, but…you're really not even worth my bullets."

He pulled it out and started to walk away when Jason let out a raspy, "Fuck you." In one swift motion, Victor spun around and slashed his throat. Scar watched in horror. She wanted to scream, she wanted to run…but all she could do is stay frozen. Victor leaned in as Jason grabbed at his neck, blood oozing out faster and faster as his gasps for air grew more intense. Jason locked eyes with Scar as the life slipped out of him. When Jason's body fell limp, Victor stood up and pressed the button for the elevator. Scar maintained eye contact with Jason's lifeless body and felt a shaky, silent tear roll down her cheek.

The elevator door opened, "We have to go. _Now._ " When he saw she wasn't moving, he helped her into the elevator. She sunk back down to the floor, eyes fixated on Jason as the doors closed.

When they got to her floor, Victor picked her up and set her down outside of the elevator, flipping the emergency switch. He kicked open her door, shoved a few things into a bag, slung it around his shoulders, then went back to get her.

He picked her up again and took her down the emergency exit stairwell out to his car. He opened the backseat door, laid her down, then placed the bag under her head. As he drove, Victor tried to explain how he had no other choice and that he was taking her somewhere safe, but Scar wasn't processing a word he said. He kept rambling on as if it would change anything, but it wasn't going to. She had always wished death upon Jason. She had never once wished to watch him die.

* * *

When they pulled up to a large mansion, Victor grabbed the bag he packed, helped her sit up, then asked, "Can you walk?"

She nodded, staring at the seat in front of her face.

Victor grabbed her arm and helped pull her out of the car. Her steps were shaky and disoriented.

He groaned and stopped her. "I'm not letting you break your ankles over this," he said, picking her up again.

When he got to the doors, he set her down and made a phone call.

Scar looked around at the world spinning around her. She heard Victor yell into the phone, "It doesn't matter **why** , I said let us in, dammit! **Now!** " The door quickly unlocked and swung open.

Victor helped Scar in then told her to take off her shoes. He let her lean on him for balance while she slipped them off.

"Which room?" he asked to a man standing in the corner.

The man limped over to the pair and started to yell, "I don't _know_ , Victor, since you're doing whatever you want tonight and bringing some woman into my house, why don't you—"

Victor pulled out his gun and pointed it towards the roof and to the left, "Upstairs, or..? I'm not putting up with this, Oswald. You should know that."

The man pursed his lips as his eyes widened, "Upstairs is fine."

Victor pushed passed him and helped Scar get up the stairs. When he found a large vacant bedroom, he led Scar into it and sat her down on the bed. He kept trying to get her to talk. When he started to go on again about how there wasn't another option, all she said was, "I just want to take a shower…just let me take a shower."

He left her alone and went downstairs to explain the situation to Oswald. Scar slowly got up and walked into the bathroom. She stripped off her clothes and kicked them to the side on the floor. When she stepped into the shower, the water pressure of the faucet felt amazing. She let herself close her eyes and relax as tears streamed down her face. After she scrubbed her body clean of any blood and dirt, she turned off the faucet and put on a robe that one of Oswald's workers had set outside of the bathroom door while she was in the shower.

* * *

Her hair was almost done drying when she heard a knock at the door. She didn't care to get up or even respond.

"I'm coming in if you don't say anything," she heard Victor call from the other side. She continued to stare at the wall in silence.

Victor walked in and asked if he could sit down. She nodded, and he sat next to her on the bed.

After a minute of silence, he broke it with, "I really don't know what to say."

She nodded and said, "It's fine…I feel…okay, all things considered. I mean…he would've killed me if you weren't there. You did what you had to do and I'm willing to tell the police that."

"That's one reason I took you here," Victor explained, "As far as anyone's concerned, we were never at the condo tonight. I don't want you to have to go through what just happened again, and you should know that the GCPD will use any excuse they can to try to arrest me." He let out a small laugh, "As if they could catch me, but you get the point."

"Thank you," she said.

He looked away, "I was just doing my job."

"Please don't tell me that," she quietly pleaded.

"I think I'll leave you alone," he said, getting up.

When he had almost made it to the door, Scar quietly said, "Please don't go."

He turned around. "What?"

"I said, please don't go," she loudly repeated.

He looked towards the door, contemplating leaving, regardless.

"Please," she said one more time in a hushed tone.

Victor took a deep breath then walked back towards her. He took off his guns, unloaded them, then pulled off his jacket. "Fine." After kicking off his shoes, he removed his vest and rolled up his sleeves. Seeing him in a much less formal way was oddly satisfying.

He laid down on the side of the bed opposite of her and put his hands behind his head.

"You're blee—" Scar started to tell Victor that his arm had blood starting to clot on it, but then she noticed all of the other marks surrounding the one bloody line.

"I know," he said, "We can talk about me later. For now, I want to hear about you."


	7. Chapter 7: Sleep Well

After going into the bathroom to change into a pajama set Victor had grabbed for her, Scar came and laid down on her side, facing him. He opened his eyes and looked over, "I didn't know what you wanted, so I just picked something."

"I appreciate it," she said, "I didn't expect you to even think about grabbing clothes for me. I know I was completely useless...I'm sorry, I—"

"That's normal," he said, cutting her off, "I'd think you're weird if you had reacted any different."

"At first I was just in shock. It felt like everything happened so fast, yet it was in slow-motion, y'know what I mean? It's all kind of blending together, and now I just feel…" she closed her eyes and sighed, "…numb."

"I don't feel much," Victor said, looking up at the ceiling, "I enjoy my job and am glad that I don't get emotional. I can't afford to."

Scar opened her eyes and studied his face. Though at first glance it might've appeared that he felt nothing, the way he furrowed his brows and the way he periodically bit into the side of his cheek showed a level of emotion unable to be attained by a monster. _He may not feel a whole lot, but there's clearly something there._ His dark eyes drilled into the ceiling and held deep thought behind them. She wanted to know everything that was on his mind, but could only bring herself to ask, "Why are you like this?"

He quietly laughed, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

She looked at him with concern, "Isn't it? I mean, no offense to you...but…being a serial killer…assassin…whichever you prefer…isn't _normal_ last I checked."

"And last I checked, talking to a serial-killer-slash-assassin isn't very normal either," he said, sitting up. She could tell he was no longer playing around with her. The joking manner in which he seemed to permanently speak had dropped and she saw his eyes go from relaxed back to cold, callous pools of color.

"It's not like I tried to get involved with you," she said, feeling off put by the shift in tone. A small amount of regret washed over her. _That came out a lot worse than I meant it to._

He smiled, looked at her, and sarcastically said, " _Ouch._ I thought you liked me."

 _And just like that…he's back to normal._ She tried to suppress a smile and rolled her eyes, "Okay, Victor."

"What? I think I'm pretty cool." He re-laced his fingers and went back to the lounged position he had been in for most of the conversation.

"I think you're pretty…terrifying…" she said, giving in to her urge to smile, "…and I probably shouldn't feed your ego, but my heart is beating out of my chest. I feel…I don't know, intrigued and…scared..? It's just a rush of conflicting emotions all at once around you."

"Yeah?" he perked up, "I thought I made you feel safe or something?"

"That's what's so weird," she said, looking away, "I feel so scared but so safe at the same time. I know you could easily kill me. Even if I ran, you would find me. I've heard about you more than anyone here. Your last name is a household one. I'm not going to sit here and pretend I'm not scared…but knowing the most dangerous man in Gotham is right next to me also makes me feel invincible…because I know as long as you don't want to hurt me…and as long as we're on the same side…then no one else can."

He smirked, "Makes sense."

"You don't give me much feedback," she said, feeling a mix of annoyance and impatience.

"What? Do you want me to pour my heart out to you about how you make me feel?" he laughed.

She lightly pushed his shoulder, "Don't patronize me!"

"Okay, fine," he said, throwing his hands up, "I'll humor you. I'm glad you feel safe around me…" She felt her heart stop for a second as he looked deep into her eyes.

A smile crept across his face, "…and I'm glad you recognize the superiority of my skills in comparison to others."

"You're so annoying! Would it kill you to at least tell me you don't hate being around me?"

He held his hand up to his chin and squinted his eyes, pretending to be in deep thought for a moment, "Yeeeah, it actually would kill me, and we can't have that."

"Okay, well, if you're going to be a brat about it—"

"A brat?" he sat up, laughing, "I haven't heard juvenile insults like that in a while! Okay, fine, here we go…" He cleared his throat and looked at her with a straight face again, "You truly amaze me, and I adore being in your presence."

"I hate you so much," she said, slowly shaking her head.

He smiled, "I'm sure. You aren't the only one, so get in line."

"Well, I bet half of the people who have ever hated you are dead," she said, "I'm sure Jason was surprised to see you again. He probably wasn't too thrilled about that. Then again, I'm sure a lot of people aren't too happy to see you."

"The surprise didn't last long," Victor said, shifting his tone. _Oh no, not again._ "Look I can't say I'm sorry, and I'm not going to sit here and pump you full of shit by pretending I am."

"I wouldn't expect you to," she nodded, "I kind of feel like I should thank you. Is that wrong?"

"Are you really asking me for moral advice?" he asked, avoiding eye-contact.

"Fair," she said, "but I just don't know how to feel."

He looked over again, "Do you want to talk about what he did?"

"I don't know," she said, looking away, "It's ironic, actually…one of the things he wouldn't let me do is talk to any guys, yet…here I am, talking to you about him."

"And you put up with him not letting you choose who to talk to? You seem to hold your own decently with me."

"It's different," she said, "I used to fight back, but…the first time he hit me, it all changed. He apologized profusely afterwards…and…I told myself he didn't mean it. Then it kept happening and the rules became even more strict and absurd. I clearly remember when he threatened to kill me because he caught me walking to my car with a male co-worker." A sick feeling rushed through her body just thinking about that night.

"It's almost too bad I killed him," Victor said, "He would've _loved_ dealing with me."

Scar looked down, "Well, now he's…yeah…"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "I would've ended up killing him anyway."

"What?"

"I wasn't going to put up with him witnessing me shooting at him and I wasn't going to put up with the chance that he was going to break into your condo and kill you," he said.

"Sooo you were planning on killing him? Without asking what I thought or anything?" she asked.

"I don't need your permission and he didn't deserve your mercy. I kill people for a living, yet it didn't sit well with me to think that he would probably come back for you."

"I don't know," she said, "I'm worried that I wouldn't have tried to stop you.

"That's not such a bad thing. I was clearly right since he was at your place tonight," he said, "You know…you seem to hold back on some of your emotions. You're obviously more expressive than I am, but for a normie and all, you're kind of weird. I'd like to hear more about what goes on in your mind, Scarlet."

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"And what did I say about how little I cared?" he smirked.

She ran her fingers through her hair, "You drive me crazy sometimes, Victor."

He smiled, "You drive me crazy, too…Scarlet."

She narrowed her eyes, "If you want to continue to get a kick out of teasing me, at least answer some questions about yourself. I feel like you've interrogated me enough over the little bit of time you've known me."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" he asked.

"Like why you have a ton of…tallies on your arms," she said, hesitating.

He shrugged, "You wouldn't understand. You don't share my passion."

"Passion for wh—" It finally hit her and her eyes widened, "Oh…I…"

"Look, I won't put up with you trying to stop it," he said sternly, "It's kind of my thing."

"I wasn't going to," she assured him, "I just didn't realize you've…"

"Killed so many people? It's a piece of cake." He snapped his fingers, "Just like that."

She tried not to let her fear show, but it clearly did.

"Oh, come on, don't look at me like that. I'm serious. I told you you're safe. My guns are over there on that dresser and I promise I don't have any knives on me. I left them in my room while you took a shower."

"I bet you could kill anyone with your hands," she said, looking away.

He rolled over on his right side, propping himself up, "Now why would I hurt you when I just saved your life? That would be a waste of my time." He held up his left palm, "Touch my hand…Go on, it's not that scary."

She lifted her hand and placed it on his. His fingers extended past hers, and she felt how warm his skin was. For some reason she expected him to feel cold or covered in rough skin. _He's probably killed at least 25 people with that hand alone._

He sighed, "I can feel your hand shaking."

"I'm sorry…" she muttered, embarrassed.

"It's nothing to be sorry over," he said, "You just don't need to be afraid of me right now."

She pulled her hand away, "Yeah, well, it's the _right now_ part that bothers me."

"Okay, well, let me put it this way," he said, "I like being around you, and unless you do something stupid like tell the GCPD or Barbara everything, you don't need to be afraid of me. It gets boring around here when I'm not on an assignment. I don't like a lot of the people Cobblepot lets in here, so I'm usually stuck alone in my room."

"That makes me feel _slightly_ better," she said, "I'm not dumb enough to cross you. Besides…I like being around you, too. It's nice seeing you in a less formal way. I like it."

He smiled, "Contrary to popular belief, I don't sleep in a suit."

"I like how you dress, regardless. As you can see, I look like shit before styling my hair and putting on something decent," she said.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and shook his head.

She frowned, "What?"

"Nothing," he said, "I'm not going to get into that."

"Hey, not all of us can afford nice-ass outfits. I was thrilled to finally get to buy myself something nice with the money that you—I mean— _your boss_ gave me…" she trailed off, "…aaand I just remembered that my beautiful, new dress has been ruined by Jason's blood."

"That's not really what I meant," he said, shifting onto his back again.

"Do you choose how you dress?" she asked.

He smirked, "Can you picture someone telling me how to dress?"

She shook her head, "Fair point."

"I like the way I look," he said, "I haven't always, but I do now."

She nodded, "Good…you should."

He closed his eyes and smiled.

"You look tired," she said, examining his face again, "I am, too, honestly."

There was a moment of silence before he broke it with, "I mean…I'll stay until you fall asleep if you want me to."

She felt a wave of relief and started to crawl under the covers, "I'd like that. Thank you."

"Welcome," he said, putting one arm behind his head, "Night."

"Sleep well, Victor," she said, turning out the light.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as the moonlight poured in through a window. She could vaguely see the outline of Victor lounging next to her. The image was haunting and beautiful at the same time. The peace she felt when around him mixed with intense fear and excitement was something she'd yet to ever experience. Throughout the night, she had felt more and more comfortable in his presence. The images from the last couple of night flashed through her head, and she felt herself smile slightly just thinking about the way he looked at her…the way he smirked when throwing around his sarcastic insults…the way he said he liked having her around, even if it was just to have someone to banter with. She had a hard time falling asleep due to the mix of thoughts and emotions running through her head.

Her mind finally stopped abruptly when she felt a hand move a few strands of hair off of her cheek. Goosebumps erupted over her body and her heart started pounding.

"Sleep well, Scarlet," she heard Victor softly say as he got up and walked towards the door. She heard him collect re-dress and re-arm himself with his weapons, vest, jacket, and shoes, then open the door.

The second she heard the door click shut, she quickly spat out the air she'd been holding in her lungs since he'd gotten up. Her fingers traced her face where his hand just been as her heart quickly pounded blood back through her veins. She inched closer to where he had been laying down and rested her head on the pillow, which smelled of his cologne. Her heart continued to beat rapidly as she buried her head beneath the sheets.

 _One way or another, this man is going to be the death of me._

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, guys, it's CC. I know I haven't updated in almost half a year. I honestly considered abandoning this project or deleting my account...but then I thought about how many times a story on here helped sweep me away from reality. I have really bad depression and it keeps me from doing the things I love (like writing) a lot...but I know how much I hate when I never get updates after investing myself in a story over time, so I decided to keep going with my stories. Love you guys.


	8. Chapter 8: Buttons

Scar woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand. She reached over, flipped it open, and lazily held it up to her face. "Yeah?"

"This is Detective Gordon."

She quickly sat up, wide eyed, as all of the events from the previous night crashed down on her.

"You there..?" she heard him ask.

"…yes."

"Where are you right now?"

"Umm…" she looked around, "…at my cousin's house, south of Gotham."

"I need you to come to the station," he said.

"Is Lee okay?"

"Lee's fine…" she heard him lower his phone and whisper to someone near him. "…look, I can't really talk about this over the phone."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "Is it urgent? I rarely see my family, and—"

"It's about your ex," he interrupted, "He was found dead at your condo this morning. It's imperative that you come in as soon as possible."

She tried to force out a reply.

"Hello?"

"Yeah…I'm here…" she said.

"Look, I know this is heavy news, so I suggest having someone else drive you here," he said.

"Okay…I'll be there." She shut her phone and fell back into the bed, staring at the ceiling. _They know it was me. Fuck. They know it was me. FUCK. But it wasn't me! I didn't do it. I didn't do this. Am I to blame? No, he was going to hurt you. You hated him. I didn't want to see him get killed, though. But you wanted him dead, right? No. Yes. No?_

She grabbed the pillow next to her and groaned loudly into it. _Stop. Get up. If you take too long, you'll look more suspicious._ On the dresser across the room sat a neatly folded file of clothes. She got up, walked over to the pile, and looked through the clothes. A pair of her slacks were placed underneath an unfamiliar button-down overshirt. _I really don't want to do this._ She felt her hands shaking as she put the clothes on before leaving her room.

* * *

"Where are you going?" she heard a voice call after her as she searched the large house.

She turned around and saw a familiar face. _No shit. Penguin._

"I-I'm looking for Victor," she stuttered out.

Oswald walked towards her and stared, "He's out running an errand for me. Why are you looking for him?"

"I have to go to the police station," she said.

He laughed, "And why would I let you do that?"

"Really, Oswald? You're not her babysitter," Victor said, rounding the corner, "And by the way—next time you send me to do your dirty work, at least make sure the guy's is going to be in town. What a wasted trip…I got excited for nothing."

Oswald scoffed, "Are you going to just let her go after bringing her to MY house covered in blood last night?"

"I trust her," Victor leaned back against the wall, "She's not stupid enough to talk."

"Gee, thanks, I'm glad that's the reason," Scar said, annoyed.

Oswald waved a hand in front of her face, "Hello? Do you not know who I am?"

"I do," she said, sticking out her hand, "I'm just stressed out right now. I'm sorry, I know that I should be treating you with the upmost respect. I'm—"

"Scarlet," Victor interrupted, "She's the one you've been having me follow."

Scar glared at him, then looked back at Oswald who looked down at her hand and took it, suspiciously, "I expect you to not tell anyone about this."

"Of course not," Scar said, "Like Zsasz said, I wouldn't cross either one of you. He's helped me and treated me well, so I'll treat you both with the same amount of respect."

Victor rolled his eyes, "Now if we're done with the formalities and the ass-kissing, I have a feeling I know why you were looking for me. I heard the GCPD were swarming your complex this morning."

Scar nodded, "Detective Gordon called me. I didn't know what to say, so I told him I was with a relative way down south to buy us some time."

Victor nodded in approval, "Good. Now you have a cover as to where you'll be staying."

"Jim will pick you apart when you arrive, so be warned," Oswald added, "Quite a tricky one."

"He made me nervous even when I wasn't in the wrong," Scar said, "I'm already shaking."

"That's perfect," Victor said, "It's normal to react to the death of someone you know in an unsettled way, even if you hated them. It'd be weird if you came in and seemed chill." He then turned to Oswald, "She's staying here. I know you have the space and it's in all of our best interest."

Oswald pursed his lips, " _Fine._ But know that this is _not_ a hotel, so don't come back with anyone else."

"Thank you," Scar nodded, sincerely, "I won't get in the way. I can make you dinner or do anything you want me to while I'm here."

"We'll see," Oswald spun around and sped off into another room.

Scar shot Victor a weird look and extended her arm towards where Oswald had been standing, "Is he always—"

"A drama queen? Yeah, you get used to that," Victor shrugged.

"I guess I've finally met your boss. I would've appreciated a little warning that it was him. Just like the name "Zsasz," "Penguin" is a household name," she said.

"I didn't exactly expect to kill your ex-boyfriend last night and bring you here," he said, "but here we are, so now we have to get our story straight. Obviously, I wasn't there at all and you haven't heard from me."

"Obviously," she said, crossing her arms, "I shouldn't know you anyway."

"Exactly. I took the liberty to steal all of your jewelry. It's in the top drawer in the room you're staying in. I also broke down your door and trashed the place a bit, so you can say I helped you out." He stared, expectantly.

"So..? Am I supposed to say thank you?" she glared back, "You trashed my new condo."

"Yeah, actually, I did expect a thank you. I helped make it look like a robbery gone wrong."

Scar thought about it for a second, "Well, okay, but how do you explain Jason ending up sliced and diced in an elevator?"

"Were you not listening to what I just said? It was a robbery gone wrong. I don't know…he and a one of his douchebag friends came looking for you, took your nice things, then they killed him off out of paranoia or to get a bigger cut or something," he said, impatiently.

"Okay, but—" she tried to look for a flaw, then muttered, "—fine, that's pretty genius…"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, putting a hand up to his ear, "A little louder?"

"You're brilliant, Victor Zsasz," she rolled her eyes.

He smirked, "Mhmm, that's what I thought." He checked the time on his watch then sighed, "We should head out soon. I'm sure you noticed, but I didn't feel like I had time to grab one of your shirts, so I just gave you one of Penguin's. He's never worn it, so he didn't even notice it was gone. I stay here most of the time, so it was easy to grab when he went out for a bit."

"It's fine," she said, "I had a feeling it was a man's shirt due to the fit, but at least he's a small guy."

"I suggest you ask to get more clothes while you're with the police since it'd be too risky for me to go to the complex right now," Victor said, tapping away on his phone, "I'm sending a message to one of my associates near the station. I'm going to drive you to him, then he's going to drive you to the station posing as your…what was it again?"

She let out a small groan, "Do I have to meet one of your 'associates' today? I don't feel like I'm ready to meet more scary people."

"What choice do you have? Everyone knows me, and it'll raise more than a few red flags if I escort you to the police station. I've been there before. They don't seem to like it when I show up for some reason," he smiled at his own joke, "Now what family member is he supposed to be?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I told Jim that I was at my cousin's house way down south."

Victor looked back down at his phone, "Good call." After finishing up his text, he shut his phone and looked up, "Alright, let's go. On the way there, we can rehearse your story."

Scar nodded and followed him out to his car. When she got into the passenger's seat, she looked into the back, "I'm sorry your backseat is a bloodbath thanks to me."

Victor shrugged and started to drive off, "It wouldn't be the first ti—wait, yes it would. Every other time, the person is bled dry before ever being in my car."

After a minute of silence, Victor looked over, "I don't mean to creep you out…too much."

"Like I said last night, you manage to scare me and make me feel safe at the same time," she said, "I think you're surprisingly decent."

Victor laughed, "What? Did you expect me to act hardcore all the time? I'm pretty laid back unless I'm on a job or someone gets in my way."

"I don't know what I pictured. Definitely not how I see you now."

"Yeah? What's changed?"

She looked over and examined every part of him, from how his eyes watched the road to how his fingers twitched and tapped on the steering wheel. "Well…I know you don't like to admit it, but I think you care a decent amount. Minus the sass, you've been good to me. I know it'd be easier on you if you just killed me, but for some reason you've kept me alive and are helping me."

She could've sworn she saw the corners of his mouth twitch up for a second before he replied, "Like I've said, I'm pretty cool."

"And pretty bad at taking compliments."

"I don't mind having you around…and most of the compliments I receive revolve around how amazing my aim is or how efficient I am at killing," he said, "Not about how I dress, look, or act."

"Well, you're starting to grow on me," she looked away, "I'll even pretend to not see through your egotistical asshole façade."

He lightly chuckled, "Stop talking to me."

"Oh yeah? You wouldn't miss me?"

"Yeah, I'd totally miss your nagging. Now as much as I love hearing your shitty comebacks, we need to prepare you to face Jim and anyone else you may have to talk to."

The rest of the ride was spent going over what Scar should say to the police. They agreed upon the story that Scar went straight to her cousin's house from work. If the police asked why she wanted to drive there at night, she was to say that she didn't want to ask off of work but still wanted to get there as soon as possible. Victor's associate would serve as an alibi since he would be playing the role of her cousin. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

* * *

When it came time to get into his friend's car, Scar got visibly nervous.

"You'll be fine," Victor reassured her, "If he even touches you, just let me know. I put my number in your phone."

"Is there a chance he'd hurt me?" she asked.

"I said that to try to make you feel better. I don't work with anyone who I think would ever cross me."

She nodded, thanked him, then walked across the street to his friend's vehicle. The windows were heavily tinted, which added to her discomfort.

When she got into the passenger's side, she was greeted by a slightly over-weight, man in his mid 30s with neatly combed hair and scruff on his face. The man gave her a warm smile, "I'm sure Zsasz told you a little bit about me, but I'm Mark. I do the undercover, low-key tasks for him, so I promise none of the cops know my face."

 _He looks so…normal._ "I'm Scar," she said, feeling instantly less intimidated by his appearance, "Has Victor said anything to you about me?"

"You're all he's talked about for a week or so now," Mark said, "He told me he took you to Penguin's place last night. Apparently, he killed your boyfriend or something?"

" **Ex** -boyfriend," Scar corrected, "And he was an asshole, so he had it coming. Basically, all I need you to do is pretend to be my cousin. Just insist that I came into town last night and have been there ever since. You can tell them that this morning I woke you up and told you that I needed a ride to the station. Zsasz said whether or not you want to specify any more details is up to you, but we need to decide beforhand. My ex-boyfriend's name is Jason. It's important to remember that."

"Got it," Mark said, parking around the corner from the police station, "This will be easy."

Scar took a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. "I sure hope so."

The pair got out of the vehicle and headed towards the station. When they walked in, they were immediately greeted by an officer and taken to Jim's desk.

Jim stood up immediately and introduced himself to Mark. He then turned to Scar, "I'm sorry to call you down since you were with family, but this is urgent. I need to speak to you alone, and Harvey will talk to your cousin."

Scar's pulse started to raise. Oh god, I hope Mark remembers his side of the story. "Of course," she said, acting sheepish.

Jim led her into an interrogation room and closed the door behind them. "Scar, there's no sugar-coated way to say this…Jason was found, murdered, in your condo's complex last night. Your condo was broken into and ransacked as well."

She dug her nails from one hand into the wrist of the other under the table. "What? What happened?" she asked, feeling herself getting choked up from the pain.

"I don't want to subject you to the details, but I do need to ask you a few questions as standard protocol," he said, looking down at a notepad, then back up at her, "Where were you last night and this morning?"

"At my cousin's house, south of Gotham," she said, wiping at her eyes.

"I didn't know you had family nearby," he said, writing on the pad.

"Yeah, I just don't see him often. He lives pretty far out."

"And you've just been with him."

She pushed her hair behind her ear, "Yeah. He said I can stay with him as long as I need to, given the circumstances."

"Alright, Harvey should be confirming that story right now," he said.

"That's fine, anything we can do to help."

Jim looked up briefly then did a double-take.

"What?" Scar asked, nervously.

"You didn't go _anywhere_ else last night?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No, just straight to see family from work." _Is he onto me?_

He leaned forward, "And you didn't see _anyone_ else other than your cousin?"

Scar felt a couple of bead of sweat start to form around her forehead, "Umm, no. Nope. Just those two."

"Mhm," Jim said, skeptically, "Your cousin doesn't have roommates, does he?"

"No? Why? Is something wrong?" she asked, playing stupid.

"It's just…" Jim started, "…do you normally wears men's clothing?"

Scar scoffed, "I never wear men's clothing."

"Then why are you wearing a man's shirt?"

Scar swallowed hard, "What are you talking about?"

"See, I've been sitting here trying to figure out why something about you looked off…" he started, "…and it just hit me. The buttons on your shirt are on the wrong side. Women's dress shirts have buttons on the opposite side of men's."

 _Of course. Of course he'd know something as trivial as that._

"Did you see anyone else last night?" he continued, "And before you try to say that it's your cousin's shirt, you and I both know it's too small for him."

"I-I must've picked it up on accident," she stuttered out.

He leaned in closer, examining the garment, before standing up, "See, for some reason…I don't think you "accidentally" picked up a tailored, hand-made shirt. Now normally I wouldn't care…but if you're willing to lie about something that simplistic…what else are you hiding from me?"

 _He knows. He knows everything._


	9. Chapter 9: Nervous

"I'll be back," Jim said, getting up and pushing through the door.

Scar looked behind her to make sure he was gone. When she didn't hear or see him, she frantically flipped open her phone. "C'mon, c'mon, _c'mon_ , pick _up!_ " The phone continued to ring until it clicked to voicemail. "Dammit! Come on!" When the tone played, she looked back for Jim again, "Zsasz, I don't know why you aren't picking up, but you need to come save my ass. Gordon's gone all Sherlock Holmes on me and he's onto me for wearing—" she jumped as she heard gunshots outside of the room followed by Jim shouting.

"Stop! Hold your fire!"

She got up and hurried to the edge of the hallway where she could see the main room. "Oh my god, Victor," she whispered to herself.

"I just need to talk to Jim. Relax," Victor said, smiling, and slowly lowering his guns, "You all should know by now who would win in a gun fight."

"What do you want, Zsasz?" Jim asked from across the room.

Numerous cops put their guns back up as Victor casually walked down the steps to the ground level. "I just stopped by to say I didn't appreciate your posse shooting me. I thought we had some mutual respect going on, man."

 _He got shot? He's seemed fine!_

"Were we supposed to just let you murder Randall Hobbs like you did his five security guards?" Jim asked, folding his arms, "They clearly couldn't stop you."

 _Five?_

"Aww, Jim, don't flatter me," Victor gushed, "But seriously…not cool. I wanted to let you know I'm going to be a little bitter about that for a while."

"I know you didn't just come all the way here to tell me how upset you are. That happened weeks ago," Jim said, cautiously, "What do you really want, Zsasz?"

"Oh, no, that's it. Just know to watch your back, Jim," he glanced over at Scar for just long enough to get her attention, "This building isn't very secure for a police station. Hell, one of your emergency exits is in the locker room. I could come in from anywhere."

"Okay?" Jim said, "You usually…" Scar didn't wait around to hear the rest of Jim's speech. She bolted across the hallway hoping no one would see her through the opening and quickly peeked in and out of doorways. She ran into a tall, slender man with glasses. "Locker room! Where is it?" she frantically asked.

He shook his head, taken aback, "When you look to your right you see—"

"Just tell me!" she demanded in a stern, hushed voice.

"…left…" he said, confused, "…when you look to your right, you see to my left…"

Scar smiled and rushed past him. "Thanks!" She got to the end of the hall, took a left, and slammed through a door. She looked around in the locker room but found nothing but lockers and showers.

"Gordon says she may be involved in a murder or something?"

"Hell if I know. It's Gotham, why is she special?"

"She was in a bit ago. The one Graves found."

Scar backed up in the darkness and felt something hit up against her back. She put her hand behind her and wrapped around what hit her. _Bingo._ When she turned the knob, she fell out onto the street.

Mark sped around the corner and reached over, pushing open the passenger's side door. "C'mon! Zsasz said we don't got much time!"

She hurried to her feet and climbed into the front seat as Mark floored it. "What just happened?" Scar asked, "I thought you were going to be trapped!"

"Everything was goin' fine until the medical examiner came in and said the wounds were consistent to past vics. I guess Zsasz does his work a certain way or used the same weapon. Anyway, the guy interviewin' me left the room to go talk to someone else and I decided to call the boss. I knew something was wrong," Mark said, making a sharp turn at a yellow light, "I just hope he's not going to be too mad."

"You did nothing wrong," Scar reassured him, "I'll take care of Victor, just get me to him safely and I'll make sure he doesn't blame you." She took a deep breath, "I honestly thought _I_ screwed it up. Apparently, men and women have different dress shirts or some shit? Regardless, Detective Gordon clearly is a detective, because he used that to catch me in a lie."

Mark gave her a weird look. " _Are you_ wearing a men's shirt?"

Scar shrugged, "I mean, yeah Victor gave me a—"

"Whoawhoawhoa…Victor Zsasz is lettin' you wear his clothes now?" he asked, surprised.

"Ish. Technically it was a shirt he stole from someone else," she explained, "I'm sure he at least told you a bit about what really happened last night."

Mark shook his head. "That's still insane. I once saw him shoot a man right in front of me for touching his jacket."

"Is he always aggressive?" she nervously laughed, "That's a bit much, don't you think?"

"Have you met Zsasz? Everything about him is a bit much," Mark said, "I've seen him do some crazy shit. He can flip off a balcony and shoot three men in the meantime. I've got a lot of respect for him."

"He's… _interesting_ ," Scar said, smirking, "Don't tell him I said this, but a part of me admires him…not to be confused with what he does. I still am super uncomfortable with all of that…but when it's just him…and he's not trying to hurt someone…he's alright, y'know?"

"He wouldn't believe me if I told him, anyway," Mark laughed, "Oh! We're almost to the drop-off spot, so let me give him a call." He pulled out his phone and pressed a few buttons, "Hey, boss, we're almost there…No, she's fine, we both made it out safely…She's fine, I promise, I made sure of it…Yeah, sure thing…See you in a minute." He closed his phone and looked over at Scar briefly, shaking his head.

She held up her hand in confusion, "Well? What?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

"No, what?"

"He sounded pissed before I said you were fine. Oh, he also wants to make sure you have my phone number in case you ever need me. Don't be afraid to call me. If he wants me to assist you, I don't mind. You seem like a nice lady…I'm sorry you got caught up with someone like Zsasz. He's a great boss and all, but…you know what I mean."

"Thank you," she said, smiling, "You're nice, too. No offense, but I expected one of Victor's friends to be a bit more…"

"Like him?" Mark chuckled, "Yeah, some are, but others like me are better off blending in. I'm not much of a fighter, and I really just need a way to pay the bills for me and my little girl. It's been rough since her mom passed."

"Well, thank you…for everything. I appreciate you helping me out," she said, "I know things didn't go as planned, but your intentions mean a lot to me. Please be careful…for you and your kid. I'm sure you're a great dad. Victor may suck at showing any form of compassion or empathy, but I know he must appreciate you, too, or he wouldn't keep employing you."

"He's a good guy somewhere in there," he said, "Make sure to remind him to give you my number. Day or night, I'm always on-call if you need anything."

"I'd run it by Mr. Know-It-All first, but I do need someone to go pick up some clothes for me," she said, "I know that's a much more simple task than what he normally has you do, but I can't risk showing my face near the complex."

Mark pulled over and parked, "Sure thing. I'll see what he says and go get as much as I can without being noticed." He leaned over her and opened the door. "It was nice meeting you, Scarlet."

"Oh, please, call me Scar," she said, extending her hand to say goodbye.

He took her hand and shrugged, "Huh. Zsasz said you prefer Scarlet."

"Yeah, well, he's an asshole, so ignore him," she laughed, "Bye, Mark. Thank you, again. I hope to see you soon, under better circumstances." She closed the door behind her then trotted over to the car across the street. As she opened the passenger's side door, she sarcastically asked, "So I prefer Scarlet, huh?"

When she got in, she noticed that Victor was shaking as he pulled out back onto the road, "Hey, Victor, you good?"

He bit into the side of his cheek and shook his head.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, cautiously.

He shook his head again, "No."

"Look, this wasn't Mark's fault, I—"

"I'm not mad at Mark, okay?" he barked.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered, looking out the window.

"Look…no, I'm sorry," he sighed, "Things just rarely go wrong for me and I didn't think you were going to make it out once I left. I could only stall for so long."

 _Maybe he does care about my safety._ She reclined in her seat and the two sat in silence as Victor made the long drive to their temporary home. She looked over at him and admired his features once again. _I wonder what he's thinking. Maybe he's wondering what I'm thinking._ She decided to break the silence, "You didn't tell me you got shot recently."

"I'm fine," he said, "It was on the right side, so it didn't hit my heart or anything."

She sat up, "What? You got shot in the chest?"

"Eh. Yeah," he shrugged, motioning to the place with one hand, "Chest-shoulder area."

"I assumed you wore a bullet-proof vest! Why wouldn't you?" she asked, surprised.

He looked over, "Hey, I'm the best at my job, so I don't get shot often. It's not the first time, so it's cool."

"I wouldn't define getting shot by the words 'it's cool' but okay…" she said, "…so what happened? You paid a visit to the mayor's people or something?"

He smiled, "Ahh, yeah, the candidate's people. I killed 'em all."

"Did you take on five at once?"

"Yeah?" he scoffed, "That's nothing new."

"I guess you could say you're a certified badass then."

"I guess so," he laughed, "I'm glad someone finally put it that way."

He parked on the side of Oswald's house and got out. Scar swung open the door, prompting him to say, "Well, I was _going_ to get the door for you, but I guess you're too good for that."

"I should be the one getting the door for you, since you're my savior," she teased.

"Go away," he said, shaking his head and walking past her to the door.

She laughed, having successfully bothered him, and chased after him, "You're too tall, slow down."

"Get over it," he called over his shoulder.

He knocked on the door, then got impatient almost immediately and let himself in. Scar followed after him into the kitchen.

"You hungry?" he asked, opening the fridge.

"I could always go for food," she said, looking forward to it, "You know I haven't had the chance to eat yet today."

"Cool. I like anything, so get started".

"Screw you!" she laughed, throwing an apple from the counter at him.

He spun around and caught it. _Fuck._ "Well, dinner's not going to make itself." He leaned back against the fridge and shrugged.

"Are you _that_ lazy that you refuse to cook?" she asked, folding her arms.

"No," he said, biting into the apple, "but I did hear you say to Penguin that you would be willing to, and now I'm curious."

"Maybe tomorrow, I'm already done with today thanks to what just happened at the station," she said, "Can't we just order in, and I'll cook another day?"

He shrugged again, "I guess…but it better be a damn good meal tomorrow."

"You're so demanding. How about this? I'll make whatever you want, but you have to help me."

"Good luck getting me to do that," he said, leaning up against the fridge, "I'm not the chef around here, just the hitman."

"Well, at least you're amazing at that. I—" she paused, shaking her head, "I can't believe I'm complimenting you on murder."

"At least that's not the only thing you've complimented me on," he said, taking off his holsters and jacket.

She walked towards him and stood in front of him, staring.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Don't shoot me," she said, smiling. She reached out and meticulously adjusted his tie. When she finished, she looked up at him, with one hand still on his chest. She felt his heart pounding and he swallowed hard. "Are you nervous, Victor?" He stared back at her for a good minute in silence. "I'll leave you alone," she said taking her hand off of him, "I asked Mark to pick up a few things for me, so please contact him about that."

He watched her start to walk away and looked down. After she rounded the corner, he headed after her and called out, "Wait!"


	10. Chapter 10: Insults and Intentions

Scar turned around on the staircase, "Yes?" She started to walk back down, then leaned against the railway.

He sighed, "I'm still a person. You like to criticize me for my lack of emotions, but you ought to know that it comes with the job. It's part of who I am. That being said, yeah, I was concerned earlier. My plans don't go wrong often. I generally don't get attached to anyone I work with. It's easier that way. You need to know to not take that to heart."

She felt taken aback, "Thank you for letting me know. I'll keep that in mind."

"You have to trust me, even if you don't think I care. If I ever give you up to the police or if they say I've given them information about you, know I have a plan and will only do what I feel is necessary to achieve the best result for the mission. I told you that I'm not going to let you get hurt and I meant it," he said, "There's no reason I'd ever give you, or any of my associates, up. I can hold my own in any situation."

She finished the descent down the stairs, "I can believe that, but...is there a place we can sit down and talk for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure. If Penguin isn't in the living room, we can go there," Victor said, motioning for her to follow.

He led her into a room lit by lamps and a fireplace and sat down on the couch. "This house is so nice," she said, sitting down next to him.

"I like staying here. It's mainly for practical reasons, but it's way nicer than my place, so it's cool," he said.

"I thought my condo was nice until I saw this place…" she looked around the room, "…anyway…as I was saying earlier…look…I'm not going to pretend I was happy when I first met you. I was scared…really, really scared…and then we got stuck in that alleyway with those men Barbara sent…after you turned around to shoot the man behind me, I felt your heart beating out of your chest just like mine…and I realized, at the end of the day, we're not too different. You just have a different…demeanor than I do."

"Most people don't realize that I'm human," he said, "I am."

She looked over at him, "You act subhuman. I'm not taking a jab at your personality, but there aren't a lot of people who can stay calm in the situations you put yourself in. Not to mention your skill level."

"I take pride in what I do," he said, "Admittedly, I feel I don't get enough credit sometimes. I don't appreciate being taken for granted just because I always do a stellar job."

She looked at him empathetically, "I get that. At least you know that I'll appreciate you on future missions or whatever."

"Wait, how long do you think we'll be seeing each other?" he asked.

"Oh…" she felt a wave of embarrassment, "…I mean, I wasn't saying that we'll be around each other for a long time or anything. I just meant for the time being. I wouldn't want you to feel like you need to spend time with me or babysit me or something."

He rolled his eyes, "Chill out. It was just a question. Again, stop taking things so personally. As far as I'm concerned, you're stuck with me, since we're already gotten more involved with each other than we should've. Even after you leave here, I'll be keeping tabs on you. I've dealt with this sort of thing before, and am used to having to keep track of anyone who gets caught up in-between Penguin and one of his plans."

"Yeah, well, I don't know when I'll be leaving. I know I won't have a choice when Penguin decides it's time for me to go, but I'm a murder suspect now, and Jim might see a link between us soon," she said, "The good news is, he has to know that I physically couldn't have done all of that to Jason, so he knows that, at-best, I hired someone."

He shrugged, "Well…Jim's smart, but he's more than likely going to look for a link between us rather than seeing the direct link. You're not exactly the type of person I hang around."

Scar glared at him, "Gee, thanks."

"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that," he said, crossing his arms, "Don't pretend you would've ever tried to be in my inner circle under any other circumstance."

"Oh, no, it's cool," she said, passive-aggressively, "I wouldn't want to be part of your punk-rock-suit-and-tie-creepy-gun-wielder's club anyway."

He scoffed, "Oh yeah? Coming from the one wearing a latex suit the first time I saw you, I find that laughable. You can't make fun of my crew when you worked for Barbara Kean and dressed like one of her _lackies_."

"It was a _dress_ not a _suit_ , okay?" she glared, "And a job's a job. I didn't know she was a complete psycho until I _unfortunately_ had to meet you."

"Yeah, mhm, unfortunate," he nodded, "Okay, yeah, I'm sure that's why you begged me to stay in your room last ni—"

"I did not _beg!_ You're the one who offered to stay until I—"

Oswald rushed in, making her jump with his shouting. "Victor, I need this space! I have lots of planning to do and not enough time."

"You seriously think this is going to work?" Victor asked, "I know Gotham loves a corrupt mayor, but—"

"Is she your new assistant or something?" Oswald said, pointing at Scar, "Because last I checked, you didn't talk to me about telling her everything."

 _Seriously?_ "I'm right here," Scar said, offended, "If you have an issue with me, I'd appreciate it if you would talk to me directly about it."

"Yeeeah, you may be my boss, but I'm going to need you to take it down a notch," Victor said, standing up and looking down on Oswald, "Maybe we should discuss this in another room."

Oswald started to laugh and nodded his head, "Oh, _I_ see what's going on. Y'know, Zsasz, if you wanted room for your little girlfriend, you could've just asked."

Victor reached for his gun and cocked it, "You really want to do this right now? I like working for you, man, but..."

"Victor, stop! Just stop, both of you! I can leave! Please, it's fine, just let me leave. Seriously, I didn't mean to get in the way and what Mr. Penguin does isn't my business. I understand that," Scar said, throwing her hands up, "I don't want to cause trouble."

Oswald stared at Victor, shaking with anger, "I _expect_ you to not step out of line again, Zsasz." He turned to Scar, "I think you and I need to have a little chat."

 _Oh god. This can't be good._ She anxiously nodded, "Yes sir. I get it, I'm a stranger in your house. It's the least I can do."

Victor stormed out of the room and headed to the front door. After hearing it slam shut, Oswald said, "He can have a temper."

"No offense…but, I mean…you _did_ provoke him," Scar cautiously said, "I'm not his girlfriend and I'm pretty sure you know that."

"My dear, do you know how many people he's brought over without asking me?" Oswald asked, sitting down next to her. After she just shook her head he said, "Yeah. You're the first one."

She shrugged, "I don't know…I still just think he didn't appreciate the remark. He's a professional person. Regardless, I'm sorry…truly, I am. Like I said, I can leave if you wa—"

"No," Oswald said, looking away, "I don't want you to do that."

"I don't understand," she said, confused, "I've kind of gotten the impression that you hate me."

"You have to understand that I've been burned by many, many people. Lately, I've been under a new type of stress…one I wasn't prepared for. The one person who's ever loved me…can't be here for me right now…" He started to choke up, and took a deep breath before continuing, "…so things haven't been easy lately. Knowing that you've worked for Barbara Kean has been a concern, but Zsasz says you knew nothing about her other than that she is a socialite who owns a club."

"That's it," she assured him, "And I'm sorry for your pain, but please don't take it out on Victor. He's loyal and I know he must respect you or he wouldn't still be here. I'm sorry that I'm taking up space and all, but don't blame him. Take it out on me."

"You really haven't done anything wrong. I'm very used to betrayal and disappointment. Do you plan to betray or disappoint either of us?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No. I owe you both a lot. You've provided me a place to stay and Victor literally saved my life."

He looked over at her, "Can I trust you?"

"Whole-heartedly. If you don't believe me, just remember that you can always have Victor kill me if I betray you. I know he could."

"You must have faith in yourself. I feel like you and I could both be assets to each other."

"I can do whatever you want me to. I could be of more help, but Detective Jim Gordon thinks I'm a murderer, so—"

Oswald laughed, "Oh, does he? Jim is an old friend, you see. Zsasz briefly called me and said something about a mission going wrong, but it all makes sense now! I can take care of that. Notice he's never been arrested? The police know he's untouchable. Between he and I…you can become untouchable, or at least, a hell of a lot harder to get. It sounds like you really didn't have anything to do with that situation, anyway, so getting you off for murder will be a fully legal process."

"If you can somehow help keep me out of Blackgate, then I'll help you in any way that I can. Just tell me or Victor what you want from me. Maybe he can drag me along on one of his jobs and I can help. I've never been much of a fighter, but I'm agile and can use a gun. My ex actually took mine, which is why I was left defenseless for so long."

"I appreciate your willingness to help and your automatic loyalty. Two things that are far too uncommon nowadays," he smirked, "No wonder even Victor Zsasz wants you around."

"Do you really think he wants me around? I know he's said he doesn't mind me and all, but I worry." She looked down, "I'm not going to try to pretend I know what you've dealt with, but I've dealt with my own share of betrayal. I can't help but think that both of you are ready to have me gone."

"I haven't given you a fair chance," he said, "and I can guarantee that he wants you around. He's never acted remotely violent towards me until today. Whether you like it or not, in my head, you're labelled as his new partner or girlfriend now."

Scar rolled her eyes, "At least wait a month before giving me a nickname. You've gone by Penguin for a while now, so wait to give me one…and for the love of God, reconsider!"

He smiled, "I think we're actually going to get along really well. And you can call me Oswald…Now as your first task, I want you to go find him and make sure he knows that we get along now."

She stood up and smiled back at him, "Sounds like a deal. Where do you think he went?"

"The same place he always does. He normally likes to drive a little ways southeast of the property and go shoot things to blow off steam. I don't care as long, as he doesn't shoot anything in the house," he said, "Since I didn't hear him drive off, he probably just walked. You'll be able to hear him soon after stepping out, I'm sure."

"Okay, I'll see if I can go calm him down," she said, "Seriously, Oswald…thank you for everything. I know that you're the one who told Victor to give me money for my time and I know you don't have to let me stay here. I'm glad you took the time to talk to me. Let's do this again, soon."

He nodded, "You're very welcome. I'm sure you'll prove to be worthy of staying here."

"I'll try my best," she said, walking towards the door. When she got outside, she started walking towards the trees down the road. On the way down the path, she flipped out her phone. _10 missed calls from Lee, Harvey, and Jim. Great._ She clicked away from the notification and decided to order take-out as motivation to bring Victor back to the house. Halfway through ordering, she started to hear gunshots and knew she was getting closer to him.

The sky had started to turn by the time she found him. He had yet to hear her approaching over the sound of his gunshots, so she took the opportunity to watch him. Every shot was perfect and carried out with ease. _He makes it all look so elegant…like an art._ _It's as if using weaponry for him has always been as easy as breathing for everyone else._ When he paused for a moment and turned around, he locked eyes with her, completely unphased by her sudden presence. His eyes dropped from angry to neutral.

"I thought you'd be talking to Penguin for a while," he said.

She took a few steps towards him, "We talked. It went over well once he decided to listen to me. I don't think he meant much by what he said. I mean, sure, it was supposed to get to you, but it wasn't supposed to be an insult."

He shook his head and turned back around to shoot. He fired off a few rounds but stopped when he felt Scar put her hand on his shoulder, "Talk to me, Victor."

"You must not get it," he said, lowering his guns, "It wasn't supposed to be an insult to me. He was insulting you. _That's_ what pissed me off."

She furrowed her brows, "No…I don't get it. Why would he be insulting me?"

"Seriously?" he scoffed, raising a gun, shooting through a falling leaf behind her, "You don't see why that's insulting?"

"No," she shook her head, "It was just a stupid remark."

He put his guns back in their holsters and turned around. "No, it wasn't. Look at me. I'm a serial killer for personal gain and a contract killer for money. As if alopecia isn't enough, I have over 40 self-inflicted scars on my arms for each person I've killed. I look different from anyone in this city. I act different. I am different. You're…" he paused, shook his head, then looked away, "Point being, it _was_ an insult. I'm sure deep down you know that."

"I thought he was insulting you, Victor," she said, upset, "I thought he was trying to get under your skin by bringing up how much time you've wasted on me. I'm just me. I'm not a Victor Zsasz. There's nothing particularly special or valuable about me, and so I assumed that's what Oswald meant."

"It hasn't wasted my time," he said, looking at her, "Look, I don't really want to get too deep into this. It just pissed me off that he was insulting you, whether you realized it or not."

"Well, if it means anything…" she said, taking a step forward, "…it didn't offend me."

He looked off into the sunset, "We should start heading back before it gets dark."


End file.
